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PUBLIC, LROTURESMAT CARDIBE 8 oe eee ade ties eceosaseeeass xvii 
GENERAL TREASURER’S ACCOUNT (1919-20)...........c..cccsceereecenceceeeensecs xviii 
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D.—(Pror. J. STANLEY GARDINER, WURIS.)..........cccccsesseseeeeeeece 87 
HBS Gliey VGA AINE MN On ect as sna nsesenssvesavenenerssaneneeders 98 
F.—(Dr. J. H. Cuapnam, C.B.E.).........00+ Rion Sarde ax dake obo du dac bene ae 114 
Gi (PRO; ©. B. SENKIN, CBSE) scscascccacagsiress o-0ccercseseucuchocss 125 
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Rie (Ronen, (We kenbor, ©.B.Bi, BORG). tcc. ecsecntgee anctansias 200 
REPORTS ON THE STATE OF SCIENCE, &C.....c.ccccecscscccsceee seseeveceecesceees 215 
IERANGACTIONS" OFT THE "SECTIONS wc .w th scuttle dee wereateoas sodeeveedaevarwecniges 351 


EVENING DISCOURSES .........cccseceesseeeee EL : IIT t airs, cceeiteterawnsaoneses 384 
CORRESPONDING SOCIETIES COMMITTEE...........0.0sesccceecestssscceccescnssecees 391 
REE Eire paper eM PEM scat C oly Une ivnniag's a's aussi acecenenspieelne ncaa vss SGM aNecle ne wsigeresine 436 
APPENDIX—THIRD REPORT ON COLLOID CHEMISTRY! ........ccccseeeeeeee ees 1-154 

1 Printed and published separately by H.M. Stationery Office. 



Professor W. A. HerpMAN, C.B.E., D.Sc., LL.D., F.R.S. 

Sir T. EDWARD THorPE, O.B., D.Sc., Sc.D., LL.D., F.R.S. 

The Right Hon. the Lorp MAyor or CARDIFF | The Right Hon. Lorp TrepEGAR, D.L. 

(Councillor G. F. Forspike, J.P.). E. H. GRIFFITHS, D,Sc., F.R.S. 

The Most Noble the Marquis or BUTE. Sir J. Herbert Oory, Bart., M.P. 

The Right Hon. the EARL oF PLyMourTH, P.O. | Principal A. H. Trow, D.Sc. (Principal of Uni- 
(Lord-Lieutenant of the County of Glamorgan). versity College of S. Wales and Monmouthshire ; 

Major-Gen. the Right Hon. LorD TREOWEN, O.B., President, Cardiff Naturalists’ Society). 
C.M.G. (Lord-Lieutenant of the County of | J. Dyer Lewis (President, South Wales Institute 

Monmouth). of Engineers). 
The Right Hon. LorD ABERDARE, D.L. R. O. SANDERSON (President, Oardiff Chamber of 
The Right Hon. Lonp PoNTYpRIDD, D.L, Commerce). 

The Right Hon, the LorD Provost OF EDIN- Sir ALFRED EwinG, F.R.S. (Principal of the 

BURGH. University of Edinburgh). 

The Right Hon. R. Munro, P.O. (H.M. Secretary The Right Hon. Viscount LINLITHGOW, 
of State for Scotland). Sir E. SHARPEY SCHAFER, F.R.S. 

The Right Hon. Lorp CLYDE (Lord Justice Sir Roperr Usner (Convener of Midlothian 
General), County Council). 


E, H. Grirrirus, Se.D., D.Sc., LL.D., F.R.S, 

Professor H. H. TURNER, D.Sc., D.O.L., F.R.S. | Professor J. L. Myris, O.B.E., M.A., F.S.A. 

0. J. R. HowartH, O.B.E., M.A., Burlington House, London, W. 1. 


ARMSTRONG, Dr. E. F., F.R.S. HADFIELD, Sir R., Bart., F.R.S. | Morris, Sir D., K.0.M.G. 
BARCROFT, J., F.R.S. HALL, Sir DANIEL, K.O.B., F.R.S. | Pops, Sir W. J., F.R.S. 
Bonk, Professor W. A., F.R.S. | HARMER, Sir S. F., K.B.E., F.R.S. | Rivers, Dr. W. H. R., F.R.S. 
Drxey, Dr. F. A., F.R.S. JEANS, J. H., F.R.S. SAUNDERS, Miss E. R. 
Dyson, Sir F. W., F.R.S. KEITH, Professor A., F.R.S. Scott, Professor W. R. 
Fowl Ler, Professor A., F.R.S. KE TIRE, Sir J. Scorr. STRAHAN, Sir AUBREY, F.R.S. 
GARDINER, Professor J. SrANLEY,| KIRKALDY, Professor A. W. WHITAKER, W., F.R.S. 

GrReGoRY, Sir R. A. F.RB.S. F.R.S. 

Councillor T. B. WHITSON. 


4 io 

— Te 



The Trustees, past Presidents of the Association, the President and Vice-Presidents for the year, the 

President and Vice-Presidents Elect, past and present General Treasurers and General Secretaries, past 

Assistant General Secretaries, and the Local Treasurers and Local Secretaries for the ensuing Annual 


Major P. A. MacManon, D.Sce., LL.D., F.R.S., F.R.A.S. | Sir ARTHUR EVANS, M.A.,LL.D.,F.R.S., F.S.A. 
Hon, Sir CHARLES PARSONS, K.C.B., M.A., LL.D., D.Sc., F.R.S. 


Sir A. Geikie, K.0.B.,0.M., F.R.S, |Sir Francis Darwin, F.R.S. | Professor W. Bateson, F.R.S. 

Sir James Dewar, F.R.S. Sir J.J. Thomson,O.M., Pres.R.S. Sir Arthur Schuster, F.R.S, 

Arthur J. Balfour, O.M., F.R.S. Professor T. G. Bonney, F.R.S, Sir Arthur Evans, F.R.S. 

Sir E. Ray Lankester, K.O.B., | Sir E. Sharpey Schafer, F.R.S. |Hon. Sir C. Parsons, K.O.B., 
F.R.S. Sir Oliver Lodge, F.R.8. \ ERS. 


Professor T. G. Bonney, F.R.S. Dr. D. H. Scott, F.R.S. Major P. A, MacMahon, F.R.S. 
Sir E. Sharpey Schafer, F.R.S. Dr. J. G@. Garson. Professor W. A. Herdman, C.B.E., 


MEETING, 1920. 


President.— Prof. A. 8. Epp1neton, M.Sc., F.R.S. 

Vice-Presidents.—_K. H. Grirritus, Se.D., D.Se., LL.D., F.R.S.; 
Prof. G. H. Harpy, M.A., F.R.S.; Prof. A. L. Senpy, M.A. 

Secretaries —_W. Maxower, M.A., D.Sc. (Recorder); H. R. Hagst; 
J. Jackson ; A. O. Ranxrne, D.Se.; *Capt. J. H. SHaxsy, B.Sc. 


President.—C. T. Hrycock, M.A., F.R.S. 

Vice- Presidents.—Prof. P. Partiturrs Brepson, D.Sc.; Prof. C. M. 
THompson, D.Sc. 

Secretaries—Prof. C. H. Dzscu, D.Se., Ph.D. (Recorder); H. F. 
Cowarp, D.Se. (Acting); *Prof. E. P. Penman, D.Se. 


President.—F. A. BaTuEer, D.Sc., F.R.S. 

Vice-Presidents.—J. W. Evans, LL.B., D.Sc., F.R.S.; H. K. Jorpan, 
D.Sc.; Principal T. Franxurn Srpry, D.Se. 

Secretaries—A. R. DwerrynHouse, T.D., D.Se. (Recorder); W. T. 
Gorpon, D.Se.; G. Hickiine, D.Sc.; *Prof. A. HusErt Cox, Ph.D. 


President.—Prof. J. STANLEY GARDINER, M.A., F.R.S. 

Vice-Presidents—I’. A. Dixry, M.A., M.D., F.R.S.; Prof. G. Greson ; 
Prof. E. S. Goopricu, M.A., F.R.S.; W. Evans Hoyuez, D.Sce.; 

Secretaries.—Prof. J. H. Asuwortu, D.Sc., F.R.S. (Recorder) ; 
F. Batrour Browns, M.A.; R. D. Lauriz, M.A.; *H. Epgar Satmon. 


President.—J. McFaruang, M.A. 

Vice-Presidents.—Rev. W. J. Barton, M.A.; H. O. Becxit, M.A.; 
J. Bouton, M.A.; G. G. CutsHotm, M.A.; D. Lururer THomas. 

Secretaries.—_R. N. Rupmosse Brown, D.Se. (Recorder); C. B. 
Fawcett; *A. E. L. Hupson. 


President.—J. H. Cuapuam, C.B.E., Litt.D. 

Vice-Presidents.—Sir Hucu Berut,- Bart., C.B., D.L.; Sir E. 
Brasrook, C.B.; Prof. A. W. Kirkanpy, M.A., M.Com. 

Secretaries—C. R. Fay, M.A. (Recorder); J. Cunntson; Miss L. 
GRIER; *Prof. W. J. Roperts, M.A. 

* Local Sectional Secretaries. 



President.—Prof. C. F. Jenkin, C.B.E., M.A. 

Vice-Presidents.—J. Dyer Lewis; Davip E. Ropers. 

Secretaries.—Prof. G. W. O. Howr, D.Se. (Recorder); Prof. F. C. 
Lea, D.Se.; Prof. W. H. Watkinson ; *Prof. F. Bacon, M.A. 


President.—Prof. Karu Pearson, M.A., F.R.S. 

Vice- Presidents.—Prof. D. Hrrsurn, C.M.G., M.D.; Epwarp Owen, 
M.A.; H. J. E. PEAKE. 

Secretaries.—E. N. Fauuaizz, B.A. (Recorder); Rey. E. O. JAMES; 
F. C. Surupsat, M.D.; *Prof. H. J. Finurs, D.Sc. 


President.—J. Barcrort, B.Sc., F.R.S. 

Vice-Presidents.—S. Moncxton Copeman, F.R.S; Prof. J. B. 
Haycorart, M.D., B.Sc.; T. Lewis, M.D., D.Se., F.R.S.; C. S. Myers, 
D.S8e., F.R.S. 

Secretaries.—Prof. H. E. Roar, M.D., D.Se. (Recorder); C. L. Burr; 
e Lovatr Evans, D.Se.; Prof. P. T. Herrine, M.D.; *T. H. BuRLEND, 



President.—Miss E. R. SAUNDERS. 

Vice-Presidents.—Prof. R. CHopat; Sir Danret Morris, K.C.M.G., 
D.Se., D.C.L., LL.D.; Prof. R. W. Paruips; Prof. A. C. SEwarD, D.Sc., 
F.R.S.; Principal A. H. Trow, D.Sc.; Prof. J. Luoyp WILLIAMs. 

Secretaries-—Miss E. N. Mites Tuomas, D.Sc. (Recorder); TP. T. 
Brooks; W. E. Hitry; *Miss KE. VAcHELL. 


President.—Sir Ropert Buarr, M.A. 

Vice-Presidents.—Principal J. C. Maxwetn Garnett, M.A.; Sir 
R. A. Gregory; Miss E. P. Hueues, LL.D.; Sir Naprer Suaw, M.A,, 
Se.D., F.R.S.; Herpert M. THompson. 

Secretaries.—D. BernipGs, M.A. (Recorder); C. E. Browns, B.Sc. 
E. H. Trrep, Ph.D.; *Stanney H. Warxins, M.A., Ph.D. 


President.—Prof. F. W. Krenz, C.B.E., Se.D., F.R.S. 

Vice-Presidents.—C. Crowruer, Ph.D.; C. Bryner Jones, C.B.E. 

Secretaries—A. Lauprer, D.Sc. (Recorder); C. G. T. Morison ; 
H. G. Toornton; *H. ALEXANDER. 


President.—T. SHrerPparD, M.Sc., F.G.S. 
Vice-President.—T. W. SOWERBUTTS. 
Secretary.—W. Mark WEBB. 

* Local Sectional Secretaries 


Table showing the Attendances and Receipts 

. . Old Life | New Life. 

Date of Meeting Where held Presidents MentuersulaMembers 
1831, Sept. 27...... Viscount Milton, D.O.L., F.R.S. ...... _ _ 
1832, June 19....., ..| The Rev. W. Buckland, F.R.S. _ _— 
1833, June 25...... ..| The Rev. A. Sedgwick, F.R.S. _ _ 
1834, Sept. 8 ...... ..| Sir T. M. Brisbane, D.O.L., F. R. 3.) _ _ 
1835, Aug. 10...... ..| The Rev. Provost Lloyd,LL.D., F.R. s. —_ — 
1836, Aug. 22....., .| The Marquis of Lansdowne, F.R.S.... — — 
1837, Sept. 11...... The Earl of Burlington, F.R.S.......... = 7 
1838, Aug. 10...... Newcastle-on-Tyne,..| The Duke of Northumberland, F.RS,) = — 
1839, Aug. 26 ...... Birmingham .,,...... The Rey. W. Vernon Harcourt, F.R.S.) = _ | 
1840, Sept.17...... ..| The Marquis of Breadalbane, F.R.S. = _ 
1841, July 20 ...... ..| The Rev. W. Whewell, F.R.S. ......... 169 65 
1842, June 23,,, .| The Lord Francis Egerton, F.GS. ... 303 169 
1843, Aug. 17.. The Earl of Rosse, F.R.S. ............... 109 28 
1844, Sept. 26 ..| The Rev. G. Peacock, D.D., F.RB.S. 226 150 
1845, Junel9....., .| Sir John F. W. Herschel, Bart. » FR. 8. 313 36 
1846, Sept. 10...... Sir Roderick I. Murchison ‘Bart. sF.R.S. 241 10 
1847, June 23 ...... .| Sir Robert H. Inglis, Bart., FERS. 314 18 
1848, Aug.9 ...... 3 TheMarquis ofNorthampton, Pres.R.S. 149 3 
1849, Sept. 12...... Birmingham .,....... The Rey. T. R. Robinson, D.D., F.R.8. 227 12 
1850, July 21 ...... Edinburgh ,.,........ Sir David Brewster, K.H., F. RS....... 235 9 
1851, July 2..,,......| Ipswich ..... | G. B. Airy, Astronomer Royal, F.R.S. 172 8 
1852, Sept.1 ...... IBOLEASG oii ccsselececsess Lieut.-General Sabine, F.R.S. .., 164 10 
1853, Sept.3 Han 3.5 5;, ...| William Hopkins, F.RS.......... 141 13 
1854, Sept. 20...... Liverpool ., ...| The Earl of Harrowby, F.R.S. 238 23 
1855, Sept. 12......| Glasgow..... ..| The Duke of Argyll, F.R.S. ; 194 33 
1856, Aug.6 ......) Cheltenham ..| Prof. 0. G. B. Daubeny, M.D., F.R.S.... 182 14 
1857, Aug. 26 .| Dublin .. ..| The Rey. H. Lloyd, D.D., F.R.S. 236 15 
1858, Sept. 22...... Leeds ........ ..| Richard Owen, M.D., D. 0. Ea, FBS... 222 42 
1859, Sept.14...... Aberdeen ., ..| H.R.H. The Prince Consort maanenannaa 184 27 
1860, June 27 ...... Oxford ..... ..| The Lord Wrottesley, M.A., F.R.S. . 286 21 
1861, Sept.4 0... Manchester . ..| William Fairbairn, LL.D., F.B.S....... 321 113 
1862, Oct.1  ...... Cambridge ............ The Rey. Professor Willis,M.A.,F.R.S. 239 15 
1863, Aug. 26...... Newcastle-on-Tyne...| SirWilliam G. Armstrong,O.B., F.R.S. 203 36 
1864, Sept.13...... Bath 4. ccd fe die cased Sir Oharles Lyell, Bart., M.A., F.R.S. 287 40 
1865, Sepr6 oe: Birmingham., ..| Prof, J. Phillips, M.A., LL.D. a "ERS. 292 44 
1866, Aug. 22"... Nottingham, ":| William R. Grove, Q.0., F.R.S 207 31 
1867, Sept.4 ...... Dundee ...,..... ..| The Duke of Buccleuch, K.0.B 167 25 
1868, Aug. 19 Norwich Dr. Joseph D. Hooker, BRS. was 196 18 
1869, Aug. 18 Exeter . .| Prof. G. G. Stokes, D. 0. L., F.R.S....... 204 21 
1870, Sept. 14,.,...) Liverpool .. ..| Prof. T. H. Huxley, LL. D. ERS. ... 314 39 
A871, Aug. 2) 5.) Edinbur gh Ey .| Prof. Sir W. Thomson, LL. D. ay ERS s. 246 28 
1872, Aug.14...... Brighton ..... ..| Dr. W. B. Carpenter, F.R.S. 245 36 
1873, Sept.17...... Bradford ., ..| Prof. A. W. Williamson, F.R.S. 212 27 
1874, Aug. 19 |... Belfast ... ""| Prof. J. Tyndall, LL.D., F.R. 162 13 
1875, Aug. 25...... Bristol .., .| Sir John Hawkshaw, FRS. 239 36 
1876, Sepi.6 0.0... Glasgow ., .| Prof. T. Andrews, M.D., F.R.S. 221 35 
1877, Aug. 15...... Plymouth .. :| Prof. A. Thomson, M.D., F.R. 173 19 
1878, Aug. 14...... Dublin ., 224) Rs FEA ee M.A., 201 18 
1879, Aug. 20.,,.... Sheffield. .| Prof. G. J. Allman, M.D., F.R. 184 16 
1880, Aug. 25 ...... Swansea... ainenc| une Cle Ramsay, LL.D., F.R. 144 ll 
1881, Aug. 31 ...... SE QER 5 iteas .| Sir John Lubbock, Ba Pay 272 28 
1882, Aug. 23 ......) Southampton Dr. O. W. Siemens, F.R 178 17 
1883, Sept. 19 Southport .| Prof. A. Cayley, D.O.L., 203 60 
1884, Aug. 27......) Montreal .. .| Prof. Lord Rayleigh, F. 235 20 
1885, Sept.9 ...... Aberdeen .....,..,......| Sir Lyon Playfair, K.O. 225 18 
1886, Sept.1 ....., Birmingham ,, .| Sir J. W. Dawson, O.M. 314 25 
1887, Aug. 31...... Manchester ..... ‘| Sir H. E. Roscoe, D.O.L., rhe 428 86 
1888, Sept.5\.i2.| Bath ....0 cctv cca Sir F. J. Bramwell, F.R.S. ......... 266 36 
1889, Sept. 11 ......) Newcastle-on-Tyne...| Prof. W. H. Flower, O.B., F.R.S. 277 20 
1890, Sept. 3 1", MGGOUN 57.55. .stetecsotees Sir F. A. Abel, O.B., F.R.S. 259 21 
1891, Aug.19.,,,...| Oardiff ...., ‘| Dr. W. Huggins, F.R.S. 189 24 
1892, Aug.3 ...... Edinburgh .,. .| Sir A. Geikie, LL.D., F. R. iS: 280 14 
1893, Sept. 13,,.... Nottingham... ....| Prof. J. 8. Burdon Sanderson, F.R.S. 201 17 
1894, Aug. 8 .| The Marquis of Salisbury,K. G. .F.R.S. 327 21 
1895, Sept. 11 .| Sir Douglas Galton, K.C.B., BR. Ss. 214 13 
1895, Sept.16 ...... .| Sir Joseph Lister, Bart., Pres. Riso 330 31 
1897, Aug. 18, .| Sir John Evans, K.C.B., F.R.S. ......... 120 8 
1898, Sept.7 , ...| Sir W. Orookes, F.R.S. ............. ss 281 19 
1899, Sept. 13 .| Sir Michael Foster, K.C.B., Sec.R.S.... 296 20 
1900, Sept. 5 ...... | Bradford’ 768.0482 Sir William Turner, D.O. Ly F.R. 3. 267 13 

Ladies were not admitted by purchased tickets until 1843. + Tickets of Admission to Sections only. 
[Continued on p. x. 


at Annual Meetings of the Association. 

j | Sums paid 

Old New hes enone on account 
Annual | Annual mites Ladies |Foreigners| Total anvine the of Grants Year 

Members | Members M fore for Scientific 

8 Purposes 
— — — — — 353 _— — 1831 
— _— _ _ _ _ _ _ 1832 
_ —_— _ => —_ 900 —_ _ 1833 
—_ _ _ _ _ 1298 _ £20 0 0 1834 
—_ _— _— _ — —_ —_ 167 0 0 1835 
—_ = _ — _ 1350 _— 435 0 0 1836 
_ — — — — 1840 | — 922 12 6 1837 
25 = = 1100* = 2400 | — 932 2 2| 1838 
= — _— — 34 1438 _ 1595 11 0 1839 
_ — —_ —_ 40 1353 _— 1546 16 4 1840 
46 317 _— 60* — 891 = 1235 10 11 1841 
75 376 33t 331* 28 1315 = 144917 8 1842 
71 185 = 160 — — — 1565 10 2 1843 
45 190 9 260 _— — _ 98112 8 1844 
94 22 407 172 35 1079 =— 831.9 °9 1845 
65 39 270 196 36 857 _ 685 16 0 1846 
197 40 495 203 53 1320 — 208 5 4 1847 
54 25 376 197 15 819 £707 0 0 275 1 8 1848 
93 33 447 237 22 1071 963 0 0} 15919 6 1849 
128 42 510 273 44 1241 1685 0 0| 34518 0 1850 
61 47 244 141 37 710 620 0 0 391 9 7 1851 
63 60 510 292 9 1108 1085 0 0| 304 6 7 1852 
56 57 367 236 6 876 903 0 0} 205 0 0 1853 
121 121 765 524 10 1802 1882 0 0} 38019 7 1854 
142 101 1094 543 26 2133 2311 0 0} 48016 4 1855 
104 48 412 346 9 1115 1098 0 0 73413 9 1856 
156 120 900 569 26 2022 2015 0 0} 50715 4 1857 
111 91 710 509 13 1698 19231 0 0} 61818 2 1858 
125 179 1206 821 22 2564 2782 0 0 68411 1 1859 
177 59 636 463 47 1689 1604 0 0 76619 6 1860 
184 125 1589 791 15 3138 3944 0 0/1111 510 1861 
150 57 433 242 25 1161 1089 0 0| 129316 6 1862 
154 209 1704 1004 25 3335 3640 0 0/| 1608 3 10 1863 
182 103 1119 1058 13 2802 2965 0 0/| 128915 8 1864 
215 149 766 508 23 1997 2227 0 0| 1591 7 10 1865 
218 105 960 771 11 2303 2469 0 0/175013 4 1866 
193 118 1163 771 7 2444 2613 0 0) 1739 4 0 1867 
226 117 720 682 45t 2004 2042 0 0} 1940 0 0 1868 
229 107 678 600 17 1856 1931 0 0/| 1622 0 0 1869 
303 195 1103 910 14 2878 3096 0 0/1572 0 0 1870 
311 127 976 754 21 2463 2575 0 0| 1472 2 6 1871 
280 80 937 912 43 2533 2649 0 0/| 1285 0 0 1872 
237 99 796 601 11 1983 2120 0 0/| 168 0 0 1873 
232 85 817 630 12 1951 1979 0 0| 115116 0 1874 
307 93 884 672 17 2248 2397 0 0] 960 0 0 1875 
331 185 1265 712 25 2774 3023 0 0| 1092 4 2 1876 
238 59 446 283 11 1229 1268 0 0/1128 9 7 1877 
290 93 1285 674 17 2578 2615 0 0} 72516 6 1878 
239 74 529 349 13 1404 1425 0 0O| 1080 11 11 1879 
] 171 41 389 147 12 915 899 0 O| 731 7 7 1880 
313 176 1230 514 24 2557 2689 0 0| 476 8 1 1881 
253 79 516 189 21 1253 1286 0 0] 1126 111 1882 
: 330 323 952 84 5 2714 3369 0 0/| 1083 3 3 1883 
j 317 219 826 74 |26&60H.§) 1777 1855 0 0| 1173 4 0 1884 
332 122 1053 447 6 2203 2256 0 0| 1385 0 O 1885 
| 428 179 1067 429 11 2453 2532 0 0} 995 0 6 1886 
510 244 1985 493 92 3838 4336 0 0| 118618 0 1887 
399 100 639 509 12 1984 2107 0 0/1511 0 5 1888 
412 113 1024 579 21 2437 2441 0 0/1417 O11 1889 
368 92 680 334 12 1775 1776 0 0O| 78916 8 1890 
341 152 672 107 35 1497 1664 0 0} 102910 0 1891 
413 141 733 439 50 2070 2007 0 0 864 10 0 1892 
328 57 773 268 17 1661 1653 0 0 907 15 6 1893 
435 69 941 451 77 2321 2175 0 0 683 15 6 1894 
290 31 493 261 22 1324 1236 0 0 977 15 5 1895 
383 139 1384 873 41 3181 3228 0 0| 1104 6 1 1896 
286 125 682 100 41 1362 1398 0 0/ 105910 8 1897 
327 96 1051 639 33 2446 2399 0 0| 1212 0 0 1898 
324 68 548 120 27 1403 1328 0 0O| 1430 14 2 1899 
297 45 801 482 9 1915 1801 0 0] 107210 0 1900 

_t Including Ladies. § Fellows ofthe American Association were admitted as Hon. Members for this Meeting. 

[Continued on p. xi. 


Table showing the Attendances and Receipts 

| 4 7 Old Life | New Life 
| Date of Meeting Where held Presidents Members | Members 

| 3901, Sept. ul. Glasgow .| Prof. A. W. Riicker, D.Sc., Sec.R.S. ... 310 37 
| 1902; Sept. 10......| Belfast .| Prof. J. Dewar, LL.D., F.R.S. ......... 243 21 
1903, Sept. 9 ......) Southport ...| Sir Norman Lockyer, K.C.B., F.R.S. 250 | 21 
1904, Aug. 17..,...| Oambridge......... ...| Rt. Hon, A. J. Balfour, M.P., F.R.S. 419 32 
1905, Aug. 15...... South Africa ..,......| Prof.@.H. Darwin, LL.D.,F.R.S. ... 115 40 
1906, Ang.1 1.00] York os... ...| Prof. E, Ray Lankester, LL.D., F.R.S. 322 10 
1907, July 31...... Leicester . ...| Sir David Gill, K.0.B., F.R.S. 0.0.0... 276 19 
1908, Sept. 2 ...,..} Dublin .., .! Dr. Francis Darwin, F. R.S. as 294 | 24 
1909, Aug. 25,,,...) Winnipeg . ...| Prof, Sir J. J. Thomson, F.R.S. ...... Ls Sh eS 
1910, Aug. 31 ...... Sheffield... ...| Rev. Prof, T. G. Bonney, F.R.S. 293 26 
1911, Aug. 30...... Portsmouth , ...| Prof. Sir W. Ramsay, K.C.B. 284 21 
1912, Sept. 4 .,,...| Dundee ......... Prof, E. A. Schifer, F.R.S........ cece 288 14 
1913, Sept. 10 ...... Ee enenem ° .| Sir Oliver J. Lodge, F.R.S sd 376 40 
1914, af aly-Sept... Australia .... Prof. W. Bateson, F.R.S. 172 13 
1915, Sept. 7 ..,...) Manchester .. ........ Prof, A. Schuster, F.R.S. ..... 5! 242 19 
| 1916, Sept.5 ...... Newcastle-on-Tyne... 164 12 
1917 (No Meeting) i Sir Arthur Evans, F.R.S. ... ..... = 2 
1918 (No Meeting) .........) ai a 
1919, Sept.9 ..,... Bournemouth | Hon, Sir O. Parsons, K.O.B., F.R.S..., 235 47 
1920, Aug. 24..,... PALO at ve canew css sanens | Prof. W. A. Herdman, C.B.E., F.R.S. 288 11 

| | 

q Including 848 Members of the South African Association. 
tt Grants from the Caird Fund are not included in this and subsequent sums. 



at Annual Meetings of the Association—(continued). 

{ / Sums paid 
Old New Neaoe pe on account 
Annual = Annual cates Ladies Foreigners) Total |a ring the of Grants Year 
Members Members i | Meetin for Scientific 
H | 1n8 | Purposes 
| 374 131 794 246 20 1912 £2046 0 |£920 9 11 1901 | 
314 86 647 305 6 1620 1644 0 | 947 0 O 1902 | 
319 90 688 365 21 1754 | 1762 0 | 84513 2 1903 | 
449 113 1338. a7 3) ) 121 2789 2650 0 | 887 18 11 1904 | 
9377 | 411 430 181 | 16 2130 2492 0 | 928 2 2 1905 
356 | 93 817 352 22 1972 1811 0 | 882 0 9 1906 
339 / 61 659 951 | - 42 1647 1561 0 | 757 12 10 1907 | 
465 | 112 1166 222 | 14: 2297 2317 0 |1157.18 8 1908 | 
290¢* =| 162 789 90)24} 7 1468 1623 0 |1014 9 9 1909.. | 
379 | 57 563 123) | 8 1449 | 1439 0 | 96317 0 1910 
J 349 61 414 81 | 31 1241 1176 0 | 922 0 0 1911 | 
368 | 95 1292 359 88 | 2504 | 2349 0 | 845 7 6 1912 
480 | 149 1287 291 20 2643 «©2756 0 | 97817 1ft 1913 
139 41605 539 || _— 21 | 6044|| 4873 0 |1086 16 4 1914 | 
| 287 116 §28* 141 | 8 | 1441 | 1406 0 1159 8 1915 
250 76 251* (cecal _— | 826 821 0 | 715 18 10 1916 
| — = a = —wiihvateedos a 42717 2 1917 
_ _ _— — _ — | —_ 220 13 3 1918 
254 102 688 * 153 | 3 1482 | 1736 0 | 160 uv O 1919 
| | 
; Annual Members | 
_ Ola inde 
Anpaal Tee liesce Students’ | 
aid eeeing | Meeting | Tiekets | Tekets | | | | 
\ Report ; only | 
138 192 | atl. | 49 ed ee a | 1272 10 | 959 13 9 1920 

** Including 137 Members of the American Association, 
|| Special arrangements were made for Members and Associates joining locally in Australia, see 
Report, 1914, p.686. The numbers include 80 Members who joined in order to attend the Meeting of 
L’ Association Francaise at Le Havre. 
* * Including Students’ Tickets, 10s. 


I. Sir T. E. Thorpe, C.B., has been unanimously nominated 
by the Council to fill the office of President of the Association for the 
year 1921-22 (Edinburgh Meeting). 

II. Resolutions referred by the General Committee, at the Bourne- 
mouth Meeting, for consideration, and, if desirable, for action, were 
dealt with as follows :— 

(a) The Council adopted a resolution from Section D, that in the 
case of persons applying for membership of the General Committee 
who are not known to the Council, the matter should be referred to 
the Organising Committee of the Section concerned. 

(b) The Council collaborated with the Conjoint Board of Scientific 
Societies in laying before the Prime Minister, H.M. Secretaries of 
State for the Colonies and for India, and the Governments of the 
Australian Commonwealth and the Union of South Africa, proposals 
for the collection and publication of scientific data relating to ex-German 
colonies (Resolutions of Sections E and H). 

(c) The Council expressed to H.M. Government the Association’s - 

approval of the proposal to establish a British Institute of Archeology 
in Egypt. (Resolution of Section H.) 

(d) The Council forwarded to the Board of Agriculture a represen- 
tation on the desirability of securing the uniform description and nomen- 
clature of ancient remains on Ordnance Survey Maps, and after 
correspondence with the Director-General of the Ordnance Survey have 
learnt that measures have been taken to this end. (Resolution of 
Section H.) 

(e) The Council referred back to the Committee of Section I a 
proposal that that Section should be entitled ‘ Physiology and 
Psychology,’ and that the Presidents in alternate years should represent 
the two branches of the Section. 

(f) The Council, after enquiry, felt unable to take action recom- 
mended by the Conference of Delegates in the matter of a representa- 
tion to H.M. Government on the use of taxes derived from motor-spirit 
and carriages for the improvement of roads. 



(g) A proposal from the Conference of Delegates, that the Board 
of Education should be asked to hold an enquiry on the teaching of 
geography, was referred to Section E. 

(h) The General Officers, on the instruction of the General Com- 
mittee, forwarded resolutions urging upon H.M. Government the 
necessity for supporting an organised scheme of scientific research to 

_ the Prime Minister, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, the First Lord of 
the Admiralty, the Secretary of State for War, the President of the 

Board of Trade, the Food Controller, and the Minister of Health. 

The Council have received from the Admiralty and from the War 
Office information on proposals for research. At the invitation of the 
Master-General of the Ordnance, the General Officers attended a Con- 

_ ference at the War Office, at which the Master-General, Lieut.-General 
Sir J. P. Du Cane, the Quarfermaster-General, Lieut.-General Sir T. E. 

Clarke, and the Director of Medical Services, Lieut.-General Sir T. 

- Goodwin, explained the organisation which has been adopted for scien- 
- tific research in connection with military services. 

teenie i tilt tinal 

III. The Council nominated as their representatives on the Joint 
Committee of the General Committee and Council on Grants, under 
the chairmanship of the President (Sir C. Parsons), Profs. W. A. 
Herdman, J. Perry, H. H. Turner, and J. L. Myres. This Committee 
was directed to report to the General Committee as well as to the 
Council, and its report, which the Council has approved, is appended: 

The Committee would favour the following procedure: That Re- 

_ search Committees proposed by the Sectional Committees of the British ~ 

Association and approved by the Committee of Recommendations be 
recommended by the Council for support by the Department of Scien- 
tific and Industrial Research, the Medical Research Board, or other 

_ bodies entrusted with the distribution of public funds, and that all Com- 

mittees, the work of which may be aided by such bodies, remain 
Committees of the Association responsible as before to the Sectional 

IV. The Council resumed consideration (deferred owing to the War) 
of certain resolutions referréd to them by the General Committee 
in Australia in 1914. e 

(2) The Council forwarded to the Australian Government a resolu- 
tion urging the need for legalising in Australia the metric system of 
weights and measures as an alternative (optional) system. (Resolution 
of Section A.) 

_ (0) The Council found it inexpedient to forward a resolution propos- 
ing a gravity survey in Australia. (Resolution of Section C.) 


(c) The Council forwarded to the Australian Government a resolu- 
tion urging the early production of the Australian sheets of the Carte 
du Monde au Millioniéme. (Resolution of Section E.) 

(d). The Council has still under consideration the proposal for the 
establishment of Bench-marks on Coral Islands, in the. Pacific. 
(Resolutions of Sections C and E.) 

V. The Department of Scientific and Industrial Research made a 
grant of £600 to the Association to meet the cost of certain specified 
researches for which Committees were appointed at the Sear 

VI. The Research Fund initiated at Bournemouth now amounts to 
£1,888 16s. 6d. 

VII. Carrp Funp.—The Council made the following grants during 
the year, additional to annual grants previously made :— 

Fuel Economy Committee (additional to grant made by 

General Committee at Bournemouth) ie =< tod 
Committee on Training in Citizenship ; ‘ 10 
Geophysical Committee of Royal Astronomical Society 10 
Conjoint Board of Scientific Societies... he aif 10 


The following Nominations are made by the Council :— 

Conference of Delegates.—Mr. T. Sheppard (President), Mr. T. W. 
Sowerbutts (Vice-President), Mr. W. Mark Webb (Secretary). 

Corresponding Societies Commiltee.—Mr. W. Whitaker (Chair- 
man), Mr. W. Mark Webb (Secretary), Mr. P. J. Ashton, Dr. F. A. 
Bather, Rev. J. O. Bevan, Sir Edward Brabrook, Sir H. G. Fordham, 
Mr. A. L. Lewis, Mr. T. Sheppard, Rev. T. R. Stebbing, Mr. Mark 
L. Sykes, and the President and General Officers of the Association. 

On the proposal of a sub-committee of the Corresponding Societies 
Committee the Council, in the interests of economy, propose that the 
bibliography of scientific publications in the transactions of Correspond- 
ing Societies be not printed in future ir the Annual Report, and there- 
fore recommend the following change in the Rules :— 

Rule Chap, XI., 3 (u.):— 

*“There shall be inserted in the Annual Report of the Association 
a list of the papers published by the Corresponding Societies . . .”’ 
to read as follows :— 

“A list. shall be prepared of the papers published by the Corre- 
sponding Societies. 


IX. The Council have received reports from the General Treasurer 
during the past year. His accounts have been audited and are presented 
to the General Committee. 

The Hon. Sir Charles Parsons has been nominated a Trustee of the 
Association, in the room of the late Lord Rayleigh. 

X. Power having been delegated to the Council by the General 
Committee to appoint ordinary members of Council to the vacancies 
caused by the resignation of Sir E. F. im Thurn and the appointment of 
Prof. J. lL. Myres as General Secretary, Sir R. Hadfield and Sir J. 

Scott Keltie were appointed. 

The retiring members of the Council are :— 
By seniority.—Sir Dugald Clerk, Prof. A. Dendy. 

By least attendance.—Prof. W. H. Perkin, Dr. E. J. Russell, Prof. 
E. H. Starling. 
The Council nominated the following members :— 

Mr. J. Barcroft, 
Prof. J. Stanley Gardiner, 
Sir W. J. Pope, 

leaving two vacancies to be filled by the General Committee without 
nomination by the Council. 
The full list of nominations of ordinary members is as follows :— 

Dr. E. F. Armstrong. Prof. A. Keith. 
Mr. J. Barcroft. Sir J. Scott Keltie. 

Prof. W. A. Bone. 

‘Dr, F. A. Dixey. 

Sir F. W. Dyson. 

Prof, A. Fowler. 

Prof. J. Stanley Gardiner. 
Sir R. A. Gregory. 

Dr. E. H. Griffiths. 

Sir R. Hadfield. 

Sir S. F. Harmer. 

Prof. J. H. Jeans. 

Prof. A. W. Kirkaldy. 
Sir Daniel Morris. 

Sir W. J. Pope. 

Dr. W. H. R. Rivers. 
Miss E. R. Saunders. 
Prof. W. R. Scott. 

Sir A. Strahan. 

Mr. W. Whitaker. 

Dr. A. Smith Woodward. 

XI. Tue Genera Secretartes have been nominated by the Council 

as follows :— 

Prof. H. H. Turner. 
Prof, J. L. Myres. 

XII. The Genera] Treasurer and one or other of the General Secre- 
taries have been appointed representatives of the Association on the 
Conjoint Board of Scientific Societies. 

XIII. Prof. H. A. Lorentz has been appointed an Honorary Corre- 
sponding Member of the Association. 


XIV. The following have been admitted as members of the General 

Committee :— 

Mr. W. B. Brierley. 
Dr. F. D. Chattaway. 
Mr. W. N. Cheesman. 
Miss M. C. Crosfield. 
Miss A. C. Davies. 
Prof. J. E. Duerden. 
Prof. A. J. Ewart. 
Mr. C. B. Fawcett. 
Dr. A. Holmes. 

Prof. F. Horton. 

Mr. A. Pearse Jenkin. 
Prof. W. Neilson Jones. 

Prof. A. A. Lawson. 
Prof. J. W. MacBain. 
Dr. R. MacDowall. 
Dr. J. 8. Owens. 

Mr. H. J. E. Peake. 
Dr. Mabel C. Rayner. 
Prof. E. W. Skeats. 
Mr. C. E. Stromeyer. 
Dr. W. M. Tattersall. 
Mr. Edwin Thompson. 
Lieut.-Col. Marett Tims. 

XV. A Meeting of Recorders and Local Sectional Secretaries for the 

Cardiff Meeting, together with the General Secretaries and Dr. W. E. 
Hoyle, Local Secretary, was held in New College, Oxford, on April 10- 
12,1920. Though of an informal character, it was fruitful in discussion 
of arrangements at Cardiff and of other details in the working of the 
Association, and the Council hope that such a meeting may become ap 
annual institution. 

XVI. The Council received from the General Secretaries a detailed 
memorandum on the increased cost of printing, showing that the Asso- 
ciation could not hope to maintain printing at the level maintained before 
the war. The Council have put into force a number of alterations in the 
practice of the Association in this connection, and hope that the General 
Committee, after experience, will approve fhem. Taken together, it is 
hoped that they will save the Association over £600 a year. 

XVII. Finally, the Council record with deep regret the death of 
Mr. H. C. Stewardson, on May 1, 1920, after a short illness. His 
devoted service to the Association began in 1873, and being in his 
eightieth year he had intended to retire at the close of the financial 
year 1919-20. 

The Council have instructed the Assistant Secretiary to carry on 
the financial duties undertaken by Mr. Stewardson as Assistant 


A verbal addition was made to the above report, when it was pre- 
sented to the General Committee, expressing the profound regret of 
the Council at the death of Prof. J. Perry, General Treasurer, which 
took place on August 4, 1920.* 

The Council, at the same time, recorded their regret at the death 
of Sir Norman Lockyer, President of the Association in 1903. 

* The General Committee, after receiving this report and expressing 
concurrence with the sentiments of the Council, delegated to the Council the 
appointment of a General Treasurer for the year 1920-21, and appointed Prof. 
H. H. Turner as Acting Treasurer in the meantime. 

The Council, at its meeting on November 5, 1920, elected Dr. E. H. 
er Sc.D., D.Sc., LL.D., F.R.S., to be General Treasurer for the year 



On Tuesday, August 24, at 8 p.m., in the Park Hall, the Hon. Sir 
Charles Parsons, K.C.B., F.R.S., resigned the office of President to 
Prof. W. A. Herdman, C.B.E., F.R.S. (See p. xxxi.) 

Prof. W. A. Herdman then assumed the chair and delivered an 
address, for which see p. 1. 

On Wednesday, August 25, at 8 p.m., a Reception was given in the 
City Hall by the Right Hon. the Lord Mayor of Cardiff. 

On Thursday, August 26, at 5 p.m., a Conference took place in the 
Assembly Hall, Technica] College, on Science Applied to Public Ser- 
vices, arising out of communications which had passed between the 
Association and Government Departments as the result of resolutions 
adopted by the General Committee at the Bournemouth Meeting (see 
Report, 1919, pp. Ixxiii-iv). The Conference was addressed by Mr. 
F. E. Smith, O.B.E., Director of Scientific Research, Admiralty, and 

On Thursday, August 26, at 8 p.m., in the Park Hall, Sir R. T. 
Glazebrook, K.C.B., F.R.S., delivered a discourse on ‘ Some Require- 
ments of Modern Aircraft.’ (See p. 384.) 

On Friday, August 27, at 8 p.m., the concluding General Meeting 
was held in the Park Hall. 

Sir Daniel Hall, K.C.B., F.R.S., delivered a discourse on ‘ A 
Grain of Wheat from the Field to the Table.’ (See p. 389.) 

After the above discourse the following resolution was unanimously 
adopted on the motion of the President :— ; 

That the cordial thanks of the British Association be extended to the Rt. 
Hon, the Lord Mayor and Corporation and the citizens of the city of Cardiff 
for their hearty welcome and for the facilities so generously afforded to the 
Association at the City Hall; to the Governing Bodies of the University of 

_ Wales, the University College of South Wales and Monmouthshire, the Tech- 


nical College, the South Wales Institute of Engineers, and other institutions 
which have kindly placed their buildings and resources at the disposal ot the 
Association ; and, finally, to the Local Executive Committee, the Loca] Treasurers 
and Secretaries for their exertions in collecting the necessary funds and for 
the hospitality which has been freely offered to many members of the Associa- 
tion, as well as for the admirable arrangements made for the eighty-eighth 
annual meeting of the Association. 


The following public lectures were given in the Park Hall at 8 P.M. 
on the days stated :— 
August 23, Prof. J. Lloyd Williams on ‘ Light and Life.’ 
August 25, Prof. A. W. Kirkaldy on ‘ Present Industrial Conditions.’ 
August 28, Dr. Vaughan Cornish on ‘The Geographical Position 
f the British Empire,’ 



See ey ote ie, pees ne 
To Balance brought forward :— 
Lloyds Bank, Birmingham ..............++8 Bebey conus voasasaskenasnaie Sesaa 1,728 17 3 
Bank of England—Western Branch :— 
On ‘ Caird Fund’ ............6 deciapacsamenscoconcesccuccaccevocenial v. 50819 8 
y General ACCOUN,,.......seessseeceeeeees Bence EE Perecee ERC iccc0 wage 4 12 
———_ 681 310 
Cash in hand ......... ety SS Miseaaegsbaaeauevasghoccesaiiesesteee 0 1i1 
2,410 3 0 
Less Petty Oash overdrawn.,,,..,........++ peetecessretysteechntowe more 25 2 
; ———_ 2,407 17 10 
Life Compositions (including Transfers) ..,............ Neh cnes ety hesaeuginexhaannnet 734 0 0 
Annual Subscriptions . fh 707 0 0 
New Annual Members 216 0 0 
Sale of Associates’ Tickets . eons x 645 10 0 
Sale of Ladies’ Tickets.....,..........+ (eee oats a) 152 0 0 
Life Members (old) Additional Subscriptions ..,.......scscccsssersecsrcereesseees 446 13 0 
Donations for Research :— 
C.Read,.2...6...-.,500 PR « 35 aenkbaah aarceseadahs stones sussh tena soapegens Neem 010 0 
Rev. F. Smith, hice 2 2 0 
Sir Hugh Bell............. vee, LOCHORO 
Sir Richard Robinson . ‘ 25 0 0 
Sir Robert Hadfield .... 250 0 0 
Sir Charles Parsons ,,.. v. 1,000 0 0 
Sir Alfred Yarrow, . 500 0 0 
Sir C. Bright .......... De cue cede deer eet ee eerate a 110 
Scientific and Indust: Research Depar 600 0 0 
Scientific Research Association ......., snadabbbse de : 1013 6 
—— 2,489 6 6 
Sale of Publications ..,.........+ Ronstcnceaerntepud’eanssSanncca en Se: nadeaee an srgtir Oo 224 11 10 
Interest on Deposits :— 
Lloyds Bank, Birmingham ...............+« aeveesebatace aps abatycemunreses wastaadaced 17 20 
ue ¥ ‘Oaird Gift’,....... ie 36 5 1 
London County Westminster and Parr’s Bank............-..+ 36 3 9 
8911 9 
Unexpended Balances of Grants returned ...,....ssccceeerseeee Ghiksapt tee depenauees 5119 3 
” » Emir UM eee tera gs cnasptanesadaays seers ceak eactiacur cae OU Ont 
101 19 3 
Dividends on Investments :— 
Consols 24 per Cent. .., 81 8 0 
India 3 per Cent. ........... ei 75 12.0 
Great Indian Peninsula Railway A FF fe ae 
War Stock 5 per Cent. se 43 3 0 
War Bonds 5 per Oent. ..,.... bitgdhesmeb thaeeeened BT ORE RE arte PI aupuddvesundveee 49 0 0 
——_ 272 10 2 
Dividends on ‘Caird Fund’ Investments :— 
India 34 per Cent. ..... PRTG | AUELIE, ectertccvecssauthsocvescctcosestsoten Aen 64 7 4 
Oanada 34 per Cent, (including extra 4 per Cent.) ...........ssecceseeeeeees 70 0 0 
London and South-Western Railway Consolidated4 per Oent. Preference 
TOO ot eens treet enn er'e tine pee viva tee as tapemanmnnepiaxs resp vaucenksosnceos= 9s eeceaye ater 70 0 0 
Londonand North-Western Railway Consolidated 4 per Oent. Preference 
Stock 4.5... igloos sbdeetuitbar ca dueneeaes vehetaeeed dan ach Caduchbdddabivesspdaabeos i 58 16 0 
——— 263 3 4 
£ s. ad. 
4,651 10 5 Consolidated 24 per Oent. Stock 
3,600 0 O India 3 per Cent. Stock 
879 14 9 Great Indian Peninsula Railway £43 ‘B’ Annuity 
2,627 010 India 3} per Cent. Stock, ‘ Oaird Fund’ 
2,100 0 0 London and North-Western Railway Consolidated 4 per Cent. 
Preference Stock, ‘Caird Fund’ 
2,500 0 O Oanada 3} per Cent. (1930-50) Registered Stock ‘Caird Fund : 
2,500 0 0 London and South-Western Railway Consolidated 4 per Cent. 
Preference Stock, ‘Oaird Fund’ 
100 19 3 Sir Frederick Bramwell’s Gift of 2} per Cent. Self-Oumulating 
Consolidated Stock 
863 210 War Loan 5 per Cent. Stock 
1,400 0 O War Loan 5 per Cent., 1929-47 
1,000 0 0 Lloyds Bank, Birmingham—Deposit Account, Sir J. Caird’s Gift 
for Radio-Activity Investigation, included in Balance at Bank 
£22,222 8 1 £8,750 3 8 

Value at 30th June, 1920, £13,416 8s, 1d, 

O_O OL <<< 


July 1, 1919, to June 30, 1920. 
S, 4. d. 
By Rent and Office Expenses ...........cccccccceeeeee Recetcccedtessetevesadtcers *OS3 RON MELEE Lea ee . 29214 8 
Salaries and Travelling Expenses,, ee 7 f7 
Printing, Binding, etc.................ccceeceeeeeeees Peneaestrarteg eaten ertncachinceeretentiteieveieieti ets 859 15 3 
Grants to Research Oommittees :— Sls 
Liverpool Tidal Institute ............. SigarsavsccenisphadeesHapisses dbwendiee -. 150 0 
Bronze Implements Committee .., SP 1LO® 0 
Mathematical Tables .....,...... 30 0 
Geology of Coal Seams .,,.............4. mig 
Free Places in Secondary Education 10 
Stress Distribution ...............ssseescecees 80 
Effects of War on Credit . nee 100 
Replacement of Men by Women......... 30 
Breeding Experiments on @nothera, & Pane 
Radiotelegraph Investigations,,,......... ... 100 

Palaeolithic Site in Jersey... 
Rude Stone Monuments 
Annual Tables of Constants, 
Museums Committee .......... 

Railway Committee... 5 
Heredity Committee .......... 

Palaeozoic Rocks Oommittee . 30 
Committee on Lepidoptera ,...... 50 
Absorption Spectra Committee ...... 10 

International Language Committee 
Charts and Pictures Committee . 
Kiltorcan Rocks Committee.,,. i 
Zoological Bibliography....... aed 
Seismological Committee . nf 



Stone Circles Committee .. tery HO 
RISROHASIUC ene token ceevevatsneseasuscevanscais roneere eco certer| Wareaaevnene oe » , 20 
= One 130 
Expenses Bournemouth Meeting ...... initrd peceorcereaee tc AG POLED STE SEE ; 260 8 7 
F Oxford Meeting.............. 55 50 5 4 
Grants made from ‘Caird Fund’ ................cc0-eceeee0s See consdaonsaae hbteeoepy te ite 240 U0 0 

Balance at Lloyds Bank, Birmingham (with Interest accrued), includin, 
Sir James Caird’s Gift, Radio-Activity Investigation, of £1,000 and 

Interest accrued thereon .., _ .......sccccee « cesceecees .. 1,782 5 3 
London Oounty Westminster and Parr’s Bank, Ltd... .ceeccccceceeececeeuee 1,854 10 9 
Balance at Bank of England, Western Branch :— 
On ‘Caird Fund’ ............ Poasteectect cans ni Re’ hee-caseises’ | OGRE Se 0 
gs LGrerieral Aceouamtiys; JA... ccesscsthe=-ctiWavtiecebdesseccencoese . 938 7 1 
———— 1,520 10 1 
5,157 6 1 
PPE EVG CAA BALANCE, «0, ccs tse ssacecaarcesestasavesccnactcesecsects As CARPE rt cr PEAS 109 

——— 5,158 6 10 

£8,750 3 8 

I have examined the above Account with the Books and Vouchers of the Association, and certify the 
same to be correct. I have also verified the Balances at the Bankers, and have ascertained tbat the Invest- 
ments are registered in the names of the Trustees, or held by the Bank of England on account of the 

ARTHUR L. Bow Ley, } Auditors. W. B, Kuen, Chartered Accountant, 
23 Queen Victoria Street, E.C. 4, 
August 13, 1920, 




Avaust, 1920. 

1. (a) Receiving grants of money from the Association for expenses 
connected with research. (b) Receiving grants of money from the Associa- 
tion specifically for cost of printing Report. (e) Grant to be applied for 
from Public Funds. 


Seismological Investigations.—-Prof. H. H. Turner (Chairman), Mr. J. J. Shaw 
(Secretary), Mr. C. Vernon Boys, Dr. J. E. Crombie, Sir H. Darwin, Dr. C. Davison, 
Sir F. W. Dyson, Sir R. T. Glazebrook, Prof. C. G. Knott, Prof. H. Lamb, Sir 
J. Larmor, Prof. A. E. H. Love, Prof. H. M. Macdonald, Prof. H. C. Plummer, 
Mr. W. E. Plummer, Prof. R. A. Sampson, Sir A. Schuster, Sir Napier Shaw, 
Dr. G. T. Walker, Mr. G. W. Walker. (b) £10, (c) £90. { 

To assist work on the Tides.—Prof. H. Lamb (Chairman), Dr. A. T. Doodson (Secretary), 
Colonel Sir C. F. Close, Dr. P. H. Cowell, Sir H. Darwin, Dr. G. H. Fowler, 
Admiral F. C. Learmonth, Sir J. E. Petavel, Prof. J. Proudman, Major G. I. 
Taylor, Prof. D’Arcy W. Thompson, Sir J. J. Thomson, Prof. H. H. Turner. 
(b) £35, (c) £165. 

Annual Tables of Constants and Numerical Data, chemical, physical, and technological. 
—Sir E. Rutherford (Chairman), Prof. A. W. Porter (Secretary), Mr. A. FE. G. 
Egerton. (a) £40. 

Determination of Gravity at Sea.—Prof. A. E. H. Love (Chairman), Dr. W. G. Duffield 
(Secretary), Mr. 'T. W. Chaundy, Sir H. Darwin, Prof. A. S, Eddington, Major E, O. 
Henrici, Sir A. Schuster, and Prof. H.H. Turner. (a) £10. 

Calculation of Mathematical Tables.—Prof. J. W. Nicholson (Chairman), Dr. J. R. 
Airey (Secretary), Mr. T. W. Chaundy, Prof. L. N. G. Filon, Sir G. Greenhill, 
Colonei Hippisley, Prof. E. W. Hobson, Mr. G. Kennedy, and Profs. Alfred 
Lodge, A. E. H. Love, H. M. Macdonald, G. B. Mathews, G. N. Watson, and 

G. Webster. (a) £30, (c) £270. 


Colloid Chemistry and its Industrial Applications.—Prof. F. G. Donnan (Chairman), 
Mr. W. Clayton (Secretary), Mr. E. Ardern, Dr. E. F. Armstrong, Prof. W. M. 
Bayliss, Prof. C. H. Desch, Dr. A. E. Dunstan, Mr. H. W. Greenwood, Mr. W. 
Harrison, Mr. E. Hatschek, Mr. G. King, Prof. W. C. McC. Lewis, Prof. J. W. 
McBain, Dr. R. 8. Morell, Profs. H. R. Proctor and W. Ramsden, Dr. E. J. 
Russell, Mr. A. B. Searle, Dr. S. A. Shorter, Dr. R. E. Slade, Mr. Sproxton, 
Dr. H. P. Stevens, Mr. H. B. Stocks, Mr. R. Whymper. (a) £5, (c) For 
printing Report. 

Fuel Economy ; Utilisation of Coal; Smoke Prevention.—Prof. W. A. Bone (Chair- 
man), Mr. H. James Yates (Vice- Chairman), Mr. Robert Mond (Secretary), Mr. 
A. H. Barker, Prof. P. P. Bedson, Dr. W. S. Boulton, Mr. E. Bury, Prof. W. E. 
Dalby, Mr. E. V. Evans, Dr. W. Galloway, Sir Robert Hadfield, Bart., Dr. 
H. 8. Hele-Shaw, Mr. D. H. Helps, Dr. G. Hickling. Mr. D. V. Hollingworth, 
Mr. A. Hutchinson, Principal G. Knox, Mr. Michael Longridge, Prof. Henry 
Louis, Mr. G. E. Morgans, Mr. W. H. Patchell, Mr. E. D. Simon, Mr. A. T. Smith, 
Dr. J. E. Stead, Mr. C. E. Stromeyer, Mr. G. Blake Aide Sir Joseph Walton, 
Prof. W. W. Watts, Mr. W. B. Woodhouse, and Mr. C. H. Wordingham. 
(a) £15, (b) £20. 

T The Committee receives a grant of £100 from the Caird Fund. 


Absorption Spectra and Chemical Constitution of Organic Compounds.—Sir J. J. 
Dobbie (Chairman), Prof. E. E. C. Baly (Secretary), Dr. A. W. Stewart. 
(a) £10, (b) £25. 

Research on Non-Aromatic Diazonium Salts.—Dr. F. D. Chattaway (Chairman), 
Prof. G T. Morgan (Secretary), Mr. P. G. W. Bayly and Dr. N. V. Sidgwick. 
(a) £10. 

To report on the present state of knowledge in regard of Infra-red Spectra.—Prof. 
E. E. C. Baly (Chairman), (vacant) (Secretary), Prof. W. C. McC. Lewis, 
Prof. F, A. Lindemann, Prof. T. W. Lowry, Prof. T. R. Merton. (a) £5. 


The Old Red Sandstone Rocks of Kiltorcan, Ireland.—Prof. Grenville Cole (Chair- 
man), Prof. T. Johnson (Secretary), Dr. J. W. Evans, Dr. R. Kidston, and Dr. 
A. Smith Woodward. (a) £15. 

To excavate Critica] Sections in the Paleozoic Rocks of England and Wales.—Prof. 
W. W. Watts (Chairman), Prof. W. G. Fearnsides (Secretary), Prof. W. 8. Boulton, 
Mr. E. 8. Cobbold, Prof. E. J. Garwood, Mr. V. C. Illing, Dr. Lapworth, Dr. J. E. 
Marr, and Dr. W. K. Spencer. (a) £30, (b) £12. 

To consider the Nomenclature of the Carboniferous, Permo-carboniferous, and Per 
mian Rocks of the Southern Hemisphere.—Prof. T. W. Edgeworth David (Chair- 
man), Prof. E. W. Skeats (Secretary), Mr. W. S. Dun, Prof. J. W. Gregory, Sir 
T. H. Holland, Messrs. W. Howchin, A. E. Kitson, and G. W. Lamplugh, Dr. A. W. 
Rogers, Prof. A. C. Seward, Mr. D. M. 8. Watson, and Prof. W. G. Woolnough. 
(a) £25, (b) £5. 


To nominate competent Naturalists to perform definite pieces of work at the Marine 
Laboratory, Plymouth.—Prof. A. Dendy (Chairman and Secretary), Prof. E. 8. 
Goodrich, Prof. J. P. Hill, Prof. 8. J. Hickson, Sir E. Ray Lankester. (a) £200. 

Experiments in Inheritance in Silkworms.—Prof. W. Bateson (Chairman), Mrs. Merritt 
Hawkes (Secretary), Dr. F. A. Dixey, Prof. E. B. Poulton, Prof. R. C. Punnett. 
(a) £17 2s. 1d. 

Experiments in Inheritance of Colour in Lepidoptera.—Prof. W. Bateson (Chairman), 
The Hon. H. Onslow (Secretary), Dr. F. A. Dixey, Prof. E. B. Poulton. (a) £24, 
(b) £1. 

Zoological Bibliography and Publication.—Prof. E. B. Poulton (Chairman), Dr. F. A. 
Bather (Secretary), Mr. E. Heron-Allen, Dr. W. E. Hoyle, and Dr. P. Chalmers 
Mitchell. (a) £1. 

To summon meetings in London or elsewhere for the consideration of matters affecting 
the interests of Zoology, and to obtain by correspondence the opinion of Zoologists 
on matters of a similar kind, with power to raise by subscription from each 
Zoologist a sum of money for defraying current expenses of the organisation.— 
Prof. 8. J. Hickson (Chairman), Dr. W. M. Tattersall (Secretary), Profs. G. C. 
Bourne, A. Dendy, J. Stanley Gardiner, W. Garstang, Marcus Hartog, W. A. 
Herdman, J. Graham Kerr, R. D. Laurie, RF. W. MacBride, A. Meek, Dr. P. 
Chalmers Mitchell, and Prof. E. B. Poulton. (b) £20. 


The Effects of the War on Credit, Currency, Finance, and Foreign Exchanges.— Prof. 
W. R. Scott (Chairman), Mr. J. E. Allen (Secretary), Prof C. F. Bastable, Sir E. 
Brabrook, Prof. L. R. Dicksee, Mr. B. Ellinger, Mr. E. L, Franklin, Mr. A. H. 
Gibson, Mr. C. W. Guilleband, Mr. F. W. Hirst, Prof. A. W. Kirkaldy, 
Mr. F. Lavington, Mr. E. Sykes, Sir J. C. Stamp, Mr. Hartley Withers, 
Mr. Hilton Young. (a) £50. 



To report on certain of the more complex Stress Distributions in Engineering Materials. 
—Prof. E. G. Coker (Chairman), Prof. L. N. G. Filon and Prof. A. Robertson 
(Secretary), Prof. A. Barr, Dr. Chas. Chree, Dr. Gilbert Cook, Prof. W. E. Dalby, 
Sir J. A. Ewing, Messrs. A. R. Fulton and J. J. Guest, Dr. B. P. Haigh, Profs. 
Sir J. B. Henderson, C. E. Inglis, F. C. Lea, A. E. H. Love, and W. Mason, 
Sir J. E. Petavel, Dr. F. Rogers, Dr. W. A. Scoble, Mr. R. V. Southwell, 
Dr. T. E. Stanton, Mr. C. E. Stromeyer, and Mr. J. S. Wilson. (b) £50. 

The Investigation of Gaseous Explosions, with special reference to temperature.— 
Sir Dugald Clerk (Chairman), (Vacant) (Secretary), Profs. W. A. Bone, F. W. 
Burstall, H. L. Callendar, and EH. G. Coker, Mr. D. L. Chapman, Prof. H. B. 
Dixon, Prof. A. H. Gibson, Sir R. T. Glazebrook, Dr. J. A. Harker, Colonel Sir 
H. C. L. Holden, Sir J. KE. Petavel, Mr. D. R. Pye, Mr. H. R. Ricardo, Captain 
H. R. Sankey, Prof. A. Smithells, and Mr. H. Wimperis. (b) £50. 


To excavate Early Sites in Macedonia.—Prof. Sir W. Ridgeway (Chairman), Mr. A. 
J. B. Wace (Secretary), Prof. R. C. Bosanquet, Mr. L. H. D. Buxton, Mr. 8. Casson, 
Dr. W. L. H. Duckworth, Prof. J. L. Myres. (a) £50. 

To excavate a Paleolithic Site in Jersey.—Dr. R. R. Marett (Chairman), Mr. G. de 
Gruchy (Secretary), Dr. C. W. Andrews, Mr. H. Balfour, Prof, A. Keith, and 
Colonel Warton. (b) £1. 

To report on the Classification and Distribution of Rude Stone Monuments.—Dr. R. 
R. Marett (Chairman), Prof. H. J. Fleure (Secretary), Mr. L. H. D. Buxton, Prof. 
J. L. Myres, Mr. H. Peake. (a) £25, (b) £1. 

To report on the Distribution of Bronze Age Implements.—Prof. J. L. Myres (Chair- 
man), Mr. H. Peake (Secretary), Dr. E. C. R. Armstrong, Dr. H. A. Auden, Mr. 
H. Balfour, Mr. L. H. D. Buxton, Mr. O. G. 8. Crawford, Sir W. Boyd Dawkins, 
Prof. H. J. Fleure, Mr. G. A. Garfitt, Dr. R. R. Marett, Mr. R. Mond, Sir C. H. 
Read, Sir W. Ridgeway. (a) £100, (b) £1. 

To conduct Archeological Investigations in Malta.—Prof. J. L. Myres (Chairman), 
Prof. A. Keith (Secretary), Dr. T. Ashby, Mr. H. Balfour, Dr. A. C. Haddon, 
Dr. R. R. Marett, and Mr. H. Peake. (a) £50. 


Ductless Glands.—Sir E. Sharpey Schafer (Chairman), Prof. Swale Vincent (Secretary), 
Dr. R. J. 8. McDowall. (c) £30. 

Section K.—BOTANY. 

Experimenta! Studies in the Physiology of Heredity.—Dr. F. F. Blackman (Chairman), 
Miss E. R. Saunders (Secretary), Profs. Bateson and Keeble. (a) £10, (c) £90. 

To continue Breeding Experiments on QOenothera and other Genera.—Dr. A. B. 
Rendle (Chairman), Dr. R. R. Gates (Secretary), Prof. W. Bateson, Mr. W. 
Brierley, Prof. O. V. Darbishire, Dr. M. C. Rayner. (a) £25. 

Primary Botanical Survey in Wales.—Dr. E. N. Miles Thomas (Chairman), Miss 
Wortham (Secretary), Miss Davey, Prof. F. W. Oliver, Prof. Stapledon, Principal 
A. H. Trow. (a) £20. 



Training in Citizenship.—Rt. Rev. J. E. C, Welldon (Chairman), Lady Shaw (Secretary), 
Sir R. Baden-Powell, Mr. C. H. Blakiston, Mr. G. D. Dunkerley, Mr. W. D. Eggar, 
Mr. C. R. Fay, Principal J. C. Maxwell Garnett, Sir R. A. Gregory, and Sir T. 
Morison. (a) £15, (b) £10, (c) £50. 

To inquire into the provision of Educational Pictures for display in schools.—Sir R. A. 
Gregory (Chairman), Mr. G. D. Dunkerley (Secretary), Mr, C. E. Browne, Miss 
L. J. Clarke, Mr. C. B. Fawcett, Mr. E. N. Fallaize, Prof. 8. J. Hickson, 
Mr. O. J. R. Howarth, Mr. C. G. T. Morison, Mr. H. J. E. Peake. Prof. 8S. H. 
Reynolds, Prof. H. E. Roaf, Sir Napier Shaw, Dr. T. W. Woodhead. 
(a) £6. 10s., (b) £16. 

To inquire into the work being done by University bureaux in furthering the inter- 
change of Students (particularly post-graduates) between home and foreign 
Universities, and to consider what steps can be taken to increase their spheres 
of action.—Mr. D. Berridge (Secretary). (a) £5. 

To inquire into the Practicability of an International Auxiliary Language.—Mr. W. 
B. Hardy (Chairman), Dr. E. H. Tripp (Secretary), Mr. E. Bullough, Prof. J. J. 
Findlay, Sir Richard Gregory, Dr. C. W. Kimmins, Dr. H. Foster Morley, Sir 
E. Cooper Perry, Prof. W. Ripman, Mr. F. Nowell Smith, Mr. A. E. Twentyman. 
(a) £7. 10s., (b) £15. , 


Corresponding Societies Committee for the preparation of their Report.—Mr. W. 
Whitaker (Chairman), Mr. W. Mark Webb (Secretary), Mr. P. J. Ashton, Dr. F. A. 
Bather, Rev. J. O. Bevan, Sir Edward Brabrook, Sir H. G. Fordham, Mr. A. L. 
Lewis, Mr. T. Sheppard, Rey. T. R. R. Stebbing, Mr. Mark L. Sykes, and the 
President and General Officers of the Association. (a) £40, (b) £30. 

2. Not receiving Grants of Money. 


Radiotelegraphic Investigations.—Sir Oliver Lodge (Chairman), Dr. W. H. Eccles 
(Secretary), Mr. S. G. Brown, Dr. C. Chree, Sir F. W. Dyson, Prof. A. S. Eddington, 
Dr. Erskine-Murray, Profs. J. A. Fleming, G. W. O. Howe, H. M. Macdonald, 
and J. W. Nicholson, Sir H. Norman, Captain H. R. Sankey, Sir A. Schuster, Sir 
Napier Shaw, and Prof. H. H. Turner. 

Inyestigation of the Upper Atmosphere.—Sir Napier Shaw (Chairman), Mr. C. J. P. 
Cave (Secretary), Prof. S. Chapman, Mr. J. S. Dines, Mr. W. H. Dines, Sir R. T. 
Glazebrook, Col. E. Gold, Dr. H. Jeffreys, Sir J. Larmor, Mr. R. G. K. Lemp- 
fert, Prof. F. A. Lindemann, Dr. W. Makower, Sir J. E. Petavel, Sir A. Schuster, 
Dr. G. C. Simpson, Mr. F. J. W. Whipple, Prof. H. H. Turner. 

To aid the work of Establishing a Solar Observatory in Australia.—Prof. H. H. Turner, 
(Chairman), Dr. W. G. Duffield (Secretary), Rev. A. L. Cortie, Dr. W. J. 8. Lockyer, 
Mr. F. McClean, and Sir A. Schuster. 


The Collection, Preservation, and Systematic Registration of Photographs of Geo- 
logical Interest.—Prof. E. J. Garwood (Chairman), Prof. 8. H. Reynolds (Secretary), 
Mr. G. Bingley, Dr. T. G. Bonney, Messrs. C. V. Crook, R. Kidston, and A. 8. 
Reid, Sir J. J. H. Teall, Prof. W.W. Watts, and Messrs. R. Welch and W. Whitaker. 


To consider the preparation of a List of Characteristic Fossils.—Prof. P, F. Kendall 
(Chairman), Dr. W. T. Gordon (Secretary), Prof. W.S. Boulton, Dr. A. R. Dwerry- 
house, Profs. J. W. Gregory, Sir T. H. Holland, and 8. H. Reynolds, Dr. Marie 
C. Stopes, Dr. J. E. Marr, Prof. W. W. Watts, Mr. H. Woods, and Dr. A. Smith 

To investigate the Flora of Lower Carboniferous times as exemplified at a newly- 
discovered locality at Gullane, Haddingtonshire.—Dr. R. Kidston (Chairman), 
Dr. W. T. Gordon (Secretary), Dr. J. 8. Flett, Prof, E. J. Garwood, Dr. J. Horne, 
and Dr. B. N. Peach. 


To aid competent Investigators selected by the Committee to carry on definite pieces 
of work at the Zoological Station at Naples.— Mr. E. 8. Goodrich (Chairman), 
Prof. J. H. Ashworth (Secretary), Dr. G. P. Bidder, Prof. F. 0. Bower, Drs. W. B. 
Hardy, Sir S. F. Harmer, Prof. 8. J. Hickson, Sir E. Ray Lankester, Prof. W. C. 
McIntosh, Dr. A. D, Waller. 

The collection of Marsupials for work upon (a) the reproductive apparatus and 
development, (b) the brain.--Prof. A. Dendy (Chairman), Dr. G. E. Nicholls 
(Secretary), Profs. W. J. Dakin, T. Flynn, J. P. Hill, E. B. Poulton, and G, 
Elliot Smith, Dr. Marett Tims. 


Replacement of Men by Women in Industry.—Prof. W. R. Scott (Chairman), Miss 
Grier (Secretary), Miss Ashley, Mr. J. Cunnison, Mr. Daniels, Mr. C. R. Fay, Mr. 
J. E. Highton, and Professor A. W. Kirkaldy. 


The Collection, Preservation, and Systematic Registration of Photographs of Anthro- 
pological Interest.—Sir C. H. Read (Chairman), Mr. E. N. Fallaize (Secretary), 
Dr. G. A. Auden, Dr. H. O. Forbes, Mr. E. Heawood, and Prof. J. L. Myres. 

To conduct Explorations with the object of ascertaining the Age of Stone Circles.— 
Sir C. H. Read (Chairman), Mr. H. Balfour (Secretary), Dr. G. A. Auden, Prof. 
Sir W. Ridgeway, Dr. J. G. Garson, Sir Arthur Evans, Sir W. Boyd Dawkins, 
Prof. J. L. Myres, Mr. A. L. Lewis, and Mr. H. Peake. 

To conduct Archeological and Ethnological Researches in Crete.—Mr. D. G. Hogarth 
(Chairman), Prof. J. L. Myres (Secretary), Prof. R. C. Bosanquet, Dr. W. L. H. 
Duckworth, Sir A. Evans, Sir W. Ridgeway, Dr. F. C. Shrubsall. 

To conduct Anthropometric Investigations in the Island of Cyprus.—Prof. J. L. 
Myres (Chairman), Dr. F. C. Shrubsall (Secretary), Mr. L. H. Dudley Buxton, Dr. 
A. C. Haddon. 

To co-operate with Local Committees in excavation on Roman Sites in Britain.— 
Sir W. Ridgeway (Chairman), Mr. H. J. E. Peake (Secretary), Dr. T. Ashby, Mr. 
Willoughby Gardner, Prof. J. L. Myres. 

To report on the present state of knowledge of the Ethnography and Anthropology 
of the Near and Middle East.—Dr. A. C. Haddon (Chairman), Mr. L. H. Dudley 
Buxton (Secretary), Mr. 8S. Casson, Prof. H. J. Fleure, Mr. H. J. E. Peake. 

t Grant of £100 from Caird Fund : see p. xxx. 


To report on the present state of knowledge of the relation of early Palzolithic 
Instruments to Glacial Deposits.—Mr. H. J. E. Peake (Chairman), Mr. E. N. 
Fallaize (Secretary), Mr. H. Balfour. 


Electromotive Phenomena in Plants.—Dr. A. D. Waller (Chairman), Mrs. Waller 
(Secretary), Prof. J. B. Farmer, Mr. J. C. Waller. 

Food Standards and Man-power.—Prof. W. D. Halliburton (Chairman), Dr. A. D. 
Waller (Secretary), Prof. E. H. Starling. 

Section K.—BOTANY. 

To consider the possibilities of investigation of the Ecology of Fungi, and assist Mr. 
J. Ramsbottom in his initial efforts in this direction.—Mr. H. W. T. Wager 
(Chairman), Mr. J. Ramsbottom and Miss A. Lorrain Smith (Secretaries), Mr. 
W. B. Brierley, Mr. F. T. Brooks, Mr. W. N. Cheesman, Prof. T. Johnson, Prof. 
M. C. Potter, Mr. L. Carleton Rea, and Mr. E. W. Swanton. 

Section L.—EDUCATION. 

The Influence of School Books upon Eyesight.—Dr. G. A. Auden (Chairman), Mr. 
G. F. Daniell (Secretary), Mr. C. H. Bothamley, Mr. W. D. Eggar, Sir R. A. 
Gregory, Dr. N. Bishop Harman, Mr. J. L. Holland, Dr. W. E. Sumpner, 
and Mr. Trevor Walsh. 


To take steps to obtain Kent’s Cavern for the Nation.—Mr. W. Whitaker (Chairman), 
Mr. W. M. Webb (Secretary), Prof. Sir W. Boyd Dawkins, Mr. Mark L. Sykes. 

Research Committees ‘in Suspense.’ 

The work of the following Committees is in suspense until further 
notice. The personnel of these Committees will be found in the Report 
for 1917. . 


An investigation of the Biology of the Abrolhos Islands and the North-west Coast 
of Australia (north of Shark’s Bay to Broome), with particular reference to the 
_ Marine Fauna. 

Nomenclator Animalium Genera et Sub-genera. 


To investigate the Physical Characters of the Ancient Egyptians. 
To prepare and publish Miss Byrne’s Gazetteer and Map of the Native Tribes 
of Australia. 

To investigate the Lake Villages in the neighbourhood of Glastonbury in connec- 
tion with a Committee of the Somerset Archzological and Natural History Society. 

The Renting of Cinchona Botanic Station in Jamaica. 



The following Resolutions and Recommendations were referred to 
the Council (unless otherwise stated) by the General Committee at 
Cardiff for consideration and, if desirable, for action :— 

From Section A. 

That H.M. Stationery Office be asked to print the Tables on Congruence 
Solutions prepared by Lieut.-Col. A. Cunningham and Mr. T. G. Creak. 

From Sections A and E. 

(1) That this joint meeting of Sections A and E strongly urges upon the 
General Committee the desirability of printing in the report of the Association 
the paper read before it by Principal E. H. Griffiths and Major E. O. Henrici 
on ‘The Need for a Central British Institute for Training and Research in 
Surveying, Hydrography, and Geodesy’ *; and (2) that the meeting calls the 
attention of the Council to the urgency of the question at the present time, and 
begs that the Council will again give attention to the subject. 

From Section B. 

That Section B requests the Council to recommend to the appropriate autho- 
rities the great desirability of continuing the experiments on the production of 
industrial alcohol now in progress, by aid of the installations now existing in 
Government establishments. 

From Section C. 

That the Committee of Section C intimate to the Council that it regards the 
forecasting of the length of Committee reports as in many cases impossible. 

From Section D. 

Unanimously agreed by the Committee of Section D (thirty-nine present) that 
it be a recommendation to the Zoology Organisation Committee that no scheme 
of payment of professional zoologists in the service of the State is satisfactory 
which places them on a lower level than that of the higher grade of the Civil 

(The above Resolution received the support of representatives of other 
Sections, and the General Committee directed that its consideration and any 
action upon it should take account of the position of workers in other branches 
of science.) 

From Section D. 

That Section D is profoundly impressed with the importance of urging the 
initiation of a further National Expedition for the Exploration of the Ocean, 
and requests the Council of the British Association to appoint a Committee to 
take the necessary steps to impress this need upon His Majesty’s Government 
and the nation. ; 

(The above Resolution was supported by the Committees of all Sections 

* This Recommendation was sanctioned by the General Committee. 


From Section E. 

That this meeting of Section E of the British Association, being convinced 
by the results already obtained of the value as an educational instrument and 
as a work of national importance of the scheme recently initiated by the Welsh 
Department of the Board of Education for the collection of Rural Lore and 
Regional Survey material through the medium of the elementary and secondary 
schools and colleges, heartily approves the same, and expresses the earnest hope 
that the scheme may be widely taken up throughout the country. 

From Section H (see preceding Resolution). 

That the Committee of Section H, Cardiff, August 1920, views with interest 
and appreciation the scheme of the Welsh Department of the Board of Educa- 
tion for the collection of Rural Lore through the agency of the schools, and hopes 
that steps may be taken to apply the scheme, mutatis mutandis, to other parts 
of Great Britain. 

From Section EH. 

That the Committee of Section E (Geography) of the British Association for 
the Advancement of Science begs leave to ask the President of the Board of 
Education to give schools permission to include geography as a subject on a 
level with the other subjects in advanced courses of suitable type in mathematics 
and science, in classics, and in modern studies. 

From Section E. 

The Committee of Section E of the British Association meeting at Cardiff 
(1920) expresses its appreciation of the opportunity of co-operation in the wor 
of the National Committee on Geographical Research afforded by the Royal 
Society, but it begs leave to suggest that the purpose might be served more fully 
if the Section were permitted to nominate a representative for a period of two 
or three years in place of the nomination of the President of the Section who 

retires annually. 
The Committee begs to suggest, if their recommendation be adopted, that 

Prof. J. L. Myres be nominated as their representative. 

From Section H. 

That the following Committees be authorised to obtain financial assistance 
from sources other than the Association * : 

(a) Archeological Investigations in Malta. 
(6) Bronze Age Implements. 

(c) Paleolithic Site in Jersey. 

(d) Rude Stone Monuments. 

From Section H. 

That this Association urges upon the Government of the Union of South 
Africa the desirability of instituting an Ethnological Bureau for the purpose 
of studying the racial characteristics, languages, institutions, and beliefs of the 
native population of South Africa, in order that any attempt which may be made 
to bring this population into closer touch with the course of social and economic 
development in South Africa may be based upon a scientific knowledge and an 
understanding of its psychology, mode of life, and institutions. 

* This Recommendation was sanctioned by the General Committee. 


From Section H. 

That this Association would urge upon the Government of Western Australia 
the desirability of instituting forthwith an anthropological survey of the 
aboriginal population now living under Government protection on Government 
reservations, stations, and elsewhere in Western Australia, in order that a record 
may be made of the physical measurements, languages, customs, and beliefs of 
these tribes, before this material, of great scientific importance, is lost by the 
death of the older members of the tribes or impaired in value by contact with 

From Section H. 

That the attention of this Association having been called to the present 
deplorable condition of the aboriginal population of Central Australia, it would 
urge upon the Federal Government of the Commonwealth of Australia, the 
Government of South Australia, and the Government of Western Australia the 
necessity for (1) the declaration of an absolute reservation on some part of the 
lands at present inhabited by these tribes, such as, for instance, the Musgrave, 
Mann, and Tomkinson Ranges, upon which all may be located under State pro- 
tection and supervision; and (2) the institution of a medical service for the 
aborigines to check the ravages of tuberculosis and other diseases now rife 
among them. 

From Section H. 

That in future years Associations for the Advancement of Science in the 
Dominions and in Foreign Countries be invited to send official representatives to 
attend the annual meetings of this Association. 

From Section H. 

Recommendations * in reference to printing of reports of Research Committees 
1919-20 : 

(a) Archeological Investigations in Malta :—That the Government of Malta 
be asked to contribute £50 towards the cost of printing this report in the Journal 
of the Royal Anthropological Institute on the condition that copies of the report 
will be available for sale in the Island of Malta. 

(6) That Mr. Willoughby Gardner’s report on the Excavations at Dinorben 
in 1919-20 be printed, in abstract only, as an appendix to the report of the 
Roman Sites Committee for 1919-20. 

From Sections H and L. 

That this Association, while viewing with approbation the recent regulation 
of the Board of Education (Circular 1153, March 31, 1908), where anthropo- 
metric observations may be included in the medical inspection of Continuation 
Schools, would urge upon the Board the desirability of extending this provision 
to all schools in receipt of Government grant for a limited period of, say, five 
years, in order that, as a result of such a survey, standards of comparison may 
be available in the future for the purpose of both medical inspection and 
scientific investigation. 

From Section I. 

The Committee of Section I recommend to the General Committee of the 
British Association that a separate Section of Psychology be formed. 
(The above Recommendation was supported by representatives of Section L, 
aoe se approved by the General Committee subject to the approval of the 

* These Recommendations were sanctioned by the General Committee. 


From Section K. 

That Government support is desired for the afforestation experiments on 
pit-mounds being conducted by the Midland Reafforesting Committee. 

From Section L. 

Section L ask the Council to give power to the Organising Committee of 
Section L, if they think fit, to allow a book upon Citizenship, based. upon the 
syllabus in Appendix I. of the 1920 Report of the Committee upon Training 
in Citizenship, to be published, with a foreword to the effect that the book has 
the approval of the Organising Committee of Section L of the British Asso- 

From Section L. 

That 500 short copies of the Reports on Museums and on Training in Citizen- 
ship (1920) be printed from the standing type.* 

* This Recommendation was sanctioned by the General Committee. 

»:0:0.4 THE CAIRD FUND. 


An unconditional gift of 10,000. was made to the Association at the 
Dundee Meeting, 1912, by Mr. (afterwards Sir) J. K. Caird, LL.D., of 

The Council, in its report to the General Committee at the Bir- 
mingham Meeting, made certain recommendations as to the administra- 
tion of this Fund. These recommendations were adopted, with the 
Report, by the General Committee at its meeting on September 10, 1913. 

The following allocations have been made from the Fund by the 
Council to August 1920 :-— 

Naples Zoological Station Committee (p. xxiv).—501. (1912-13) ; 1001. 
(1913-14) ; 100/. annually in future, subject to the adoption of the Com- 
mittee’s report. (Reduced to 501. during war.) 

Seismology Committee (p. xx).—100/. (1913-14) ; 1007. annually in 
future, subject to the adoption of the Committee’s report. 

Radiotelegraphic Committee (p. xxiii).—500/. (1913-14). 

Magnetic Re-survey of the British Isles (in collaboration with the 
Royal Society).—250/. 

Committee on Determination of Gravity at Sea (p. xx).—1001. 

Mr. F. Sargent, Bristol University, in connection with his Astro- 
nomical Work.—101. (1914). 

Organising Committee of Section F' (Economics), towards expenses of 
an Inquiry into Outlets for Labour after the War.—100l. (1915). 

Rev. T. HE. R. Phillips, for aid in transplanting his private observa- 
tory.—20/. (1915). 

Committee on Fuel Economy (p. xx).—251. (1915-16), 107. (1919-20). 
Committee on Training in Citizenship (p. xxiii).—10/. (1919-20). 
Geophysical Committee of Royal Astronomical Society.—101. (1920). 
Conjoint Board of Scientific Societies.—10I. (1920). 

Sir J. K. Caird, on September 10, 1913, made a further gift of 1,000/. 
to the Association, to be devoted to the study of Radio-activity. 


Tuesday, August 24, 1920. 

In the course of his speech introducing his successor, the President, 
the Hon. Sir Charles Parsons, K.C.B., F.R.S., said:— 

The General Committee have authorised me to send the following telegram 
to His Majesty the King :— 

Your Maszsty, 

The members of the British Association for the Advancement of Science 
desire to express their loyal devotion to your Majesty, and at this their meeting 
in the Principality of Wales hope that they may be permitted to congratulate 
your Majesty on the splendid work done by the Prince of Wales, which has 
drawn towards him the thoughts and the hearts of the whole Empire. 

We have to record with deep regret that since our meeting at Bournemouth 
last year the Association has lost two of its most devoted and valued officers. 

Professor John Perry, F.R.S., General Treasurer of the Association since 1904, 
died at his London residence on August 4 at the age of seventy. He had only 
returned two months ago from a long voyage round South America, undertaken 
for the benefit of his health. It had, however, not produced the desired result ; 
the affection of his heart increased, and the end came suddenly. Professor 
Perry was widely known as an eminent mathematician, and as one who had 
directed most of his life to introducing mathematics as a practical science— 
his numerous books are well known in this country and America, and have 
been translated into many foreign languages. He was at one time assistant 
to Lord Kelvin, and helped in the perfecting of the Kelvin electrostatic volt- 
meter. In association with Ayrton he was a pioneer in the early developments 
of electrical instruments, storage batteries, and on the applications of elec- 
tricity. He was a Past-President of the Institute of Electrical Engineers and 
of the Physical Society. One of his most famous lectures was on ‘ Spinning 
Tops,’ delivered at the British Association meeting at Leeds in 1890, and his 
recent work in the perfecting of the gyroscopic compass is well known. His 
genial, warm-hearted kindness endeared him not only to his wide circle of 
friends, but also to his colleagues and students, and there are few members of 
this Association who do not feel a blank that it is difficult to fill. 

Henry Charles Stewardson, Assistant Treasurer of the British Association 
for many years, entered the services of the Association in 1873 in a clerical 
capacity, but, through his ability for finance, soon became Assistant Treasurer, 
and the Association undoubtedly owes much to his careful economies and to 
his accurate forecasts of the balance available for grants to research, which 
guided the Committee of Recommendations each year. He missed no annual 
meeting, and many members gratefully remember his help and courtesy in the 
Reception Room. His health was failing at the last meeting, but he continued 
to discharge his duties until within four days of his death, on May 1 last, 
in his eightieth year. 

The death of Sir Norman Lockyer, F.R.S., on Monday of last week, deprives 
the world of a great astronomer, and the nation of a force which it can ill 
afford to lose. By applying the spectroscope to the sun he furnished the means 
of studying its surface without waiting for an eclipse; revealed in 1868 the 
prominences as local disturbances in the chromosphere ; and observed in the 
sun the gas, named by him helium, and afterwards identified on the earth by 
Sir William Ramsay. More than half a century ago Sir Norman founded that 
admirable scientific journal ‘Nature.’ He also founded the British Science 


Guild in 1905. His Presidential Address to the British Association at South- 
port sixteen years ago, on ‘ The Influence of Brain Power on History,’ attracted 
wide attention, but it has taken the greatest war in history to awaken national 
consciousness to its significance. 

I have now the pleasure of introducing to you my successor in this chair, 
an eminent biologist who has directed his great talents with indefatigable 
energy to the study of the life that exists in the vast spaces and depths of the 
ocean, which covers nearly three-fourths of our globe. Few people give much 
thought to the ocean beyond the fact that it carries our ships and is the source 
of most of the fish which we eat. But the work of investigating what goes on 
within the ocean, a work in which Professor Herdman has taken so arduous 
and prominent a part, has revealed a life within it, both vegetable and animal, 
of great complexity and of enormous magnitude, but governed by laws chemical 
and physical which are being gradually discovered. It is indeed difficult to 
realise, as Professor Herdman has stated, that in some seas a cubic mile of 
water may contain as much as 30,000 tons of living organisms whose life history 
depends on the light of the sun, thermal currents in the ocean, and seasonal 
changes, and that those organisms form the staple food of the fishes which we 
eat. The difficulties of these investigations must have been enormous, requir- 
ing the resources of science, consummate skill, and indefatigable energy to 
overcome them. Many years ago Professor Herdman created a fisheries labora- 
tory in the University of Liverpool, created and brought into co-operation with 
it. a biological station at Port Erin, and arranged periodical ocean trips for 
dredging and collecting marine organisms. A year ago he endowed a chair of 
oceanography at Liverpool, the first on this subject in the British Isles. He 
also founded, two years earlier, the chair of geology in memory of his only 
son George Herdman, one of those young men of brilliant promise killed in the 
war. His enthusiasm and sympathy have made him beloved by his pupils, as 
indeed by zoologists in general, and his work has led to the throwing of much 
additional light on the marine life of our globe. 

The President-Elect, Professor W. A. Herdman, C.B.E., D.Sc., 
LL.D., F.R.S., then took the chair, and delivered the Presidential 
Address, which is printed below (pp. 1-33). 

The following gracious reply was received from His Majesty the 
King to the telegram quoted on p. xxxi:— 

I have received with much pleasure and satisfaction the message which you 
have addressed to me on behalf of the members of the British Association, 
and in thanking them for their loyal assurances to myself I feel greatly touched 
at the kind references to my son, which are the more appreciated coming as 
these do from the members of this distinguished Society assembled in the 
Principality of Wales. I shall follow your deliberations with close interest, 
and I gratefully recognise all that is being done for the advancement of 
civilisation by the men of science. Gerorce R.I. 

CARDIFF: 1920. 



WILLIAM A. HERDMAN, C.B.E., D.Sc., Sc.D., LL.D., F.R.S., 
Professor of Oceanography in the University of Liverpool, 

Oceanography and the Sea-Fisheries. 

Ir has been customary, when occasion required, for the President to 
offer a brief tribute to the memory of distinguished members of the 
Association lost to Science during the preceding year. These, for the 
most part, have been men of advanced years and high reputation, who 
had completed their life-work and served well in their day the Associa- 
tion and the sciences which it represents. Such are our late General 
Treasurer, Professor Perry, and our Past-President, Sir Norman 
Lockyer, of whom the retiring President has just spoken.‘ We have 
this year no other such losses to record; but it seems fitting on 
the present occasion to pause for a moment and devote a grateful 
thought to that glorious band of fine young men of high promise in 
science who, in the years since our Australian meeting in 1914, 
gave, it may be, in brief days and months of sacrifice, greater service 
to humanity and the advance of civilisation than would have been 
possible in years of normal time and work. A few names stand 
out already known and highly honoured—Moseley, Jenkinson, Geoffrey 
Smith, Keith Lucas, Hopkinson, Gregory, and more recently Leonard 
Doncaster—all grievous losses; but there are also others, younger 
members of our Association, who had not yet had opportunity for 
showing accomplished work, but who equally gave up all for a great 
ideal. I prefer to offer a collective rather than an individual tribute. 
Other young men of science will arise and carry on their work—but 
the gap in our ranks remains. Let their successors remember that it 
serves as a reminder of a great example and of high endeavour worthy 
of our gratitude and of permanent record in the annals of Science. 

At the last Cardiff Meeting of the British Association in 1891 you had 
as your President the eminent astronomer Sir William Huggins, who 
discoursed upon the then recent discoveries of the spectroscope in 
relation to the chemical nature, density, temperature, pressure and even 
the motions of the stars. From the sky to the sea is a long drop; but 
the sciences ia both have this in common, that they deal with 

} See p, Xxx., ante, 
1920 B 


fundamental principles and with vast numbers. Over three hundred 
years ago Spenser in the ‘ Faerie Queene ’ compared ‘ the seas abundant 
progeny ’ with ‘ the starres on hy,’ and recent investigations show that a 
litre of sea-water may contain more than a hundred times as many living 
organisms as there are stars visible to the eye on a clear night. 

During the past quarter of a century great advances have been 
made in the science of the sea, and the aspects and prospects of sea- 
fisheries research have undergone changes which encourage the hope 
that a combination of the work now carried on by hydrographers and 
biologists in most civilised countries on fundamental problems of the 
ocean may result in a more rational exploitation and administration 
of the fishing industries. 

And yet even at your former Cardiff Meeting thirty years ago there 
were at least three papers of oceanographic interest—one by Professor 
Osborne Reynolds on the action of waves and currents, another by 
Dr. H. R. Mill on seasonal variation in the temperature of lochs and 
estuaries, and the third by our Honorary Local Secretary for the present 
meeting, Dr. Evans Hoyle, on a deep-sea tow-net capable of being opened 
and closed under water by the electric current. 

It was a notable meeting in several other respects, of which I shall 
merely mention two. In Section A, Sir Oliver Lodge gave the historic 
address in which he expounded the urgent need, in the interests of both 
science and the industries, of a national institution for the promotion 
of physical research on a large scale. Lodge’s pregnant idea put forward 
at this Cardiff Meeting, supported and still further elaborated by Sir 
Douglas Galton as President of the Association at Ipswich, has since 
borne notable fruit in the establishment and rapid development of the 
National Physical Laboratory. The other outstanding event of that 
meeting is that you then appointed a committee of eminent geologists 
and naturalists to consider a project for boring through a coral reef, and 
that led during following years to the successive expeditions to the 
atoll of Funafuti in the Central Pacific, the results of which, reported 
upon eventually by the Royal Society, were of great interest alike to 
geologists, biologists, and oceanographers. 

Dr. Huggins, on taking the Chair in 1891, remarked that it was over 
thirty years since the Association had honoured Astronomy in the 
selection of its President. It might be said that the case of Oceano- 
graphy is harder, as the Association has never had an Oceanographer 
as President—and the Association might well reply ‘ Because until very 
recent years there has been no Oceanographer to have.’ If Astronomy 
is the oldest of the sciences, Oceanography is probably the youngest. 
Depending as it does upon the methods and results of other sciences, 
it was not until our knowledge of Physics, Chemistry, and Biology was 


relatively far advanced that it became possible to apply that knowledge 
to the investigation and explanation of the phenomena of the ocean. 
No one man has done more to apply such knowledge derived from various 
other subjects and to organise the results as a definite branch of 
science than the late Sir John Murray, who may therefore be regarded 
as the founder of modern Oceanography. 

It is, to me, a matter of regret that Sir John Murray was never 
President of the British Association. I am revealing no secret when I 
tell you that he might have been. On more than one occasion he was 
invited by the Council to accept nomination, and he declined for reasons 
that were good and commanded our respect. He felt that the 
necessary duties of this post would interfere with what he regarded 
as his primary life-work—oceanographical explorations already planned, 
the last of which he actually carried out in the North Atlantic in 
1912, when over seventy years of age, in the Norwegian steamer 
Michael Sars, along with his friend Dr. Johan Hjort. 

Anyone considering the subject-matter of this new science must be 
struck by its wide range, overlapping as it does the borderlands of several 
other sciences and making use of their methods and facts in the solution 
of its problems. It is not only world-wide in its scope but extends 
beyond our globe and includes astronomical data in their relation to tidal 
and certain other oceanographical phenomena. No man in his work, 
or even thought, can attempt to cover the whole ground—although Sir 
John Murray, in his remarkably comprehensive ‘ Summary ’ volumes 
of the Challenger Expedition and other writings, went far towards 
doing so. He, in his combination of physicist, chemist, geologist and 
biologist, was the nearest approach we have had to an all-round Oceano- 
grapher. The International Research Council probably acted wisely 
at the recent Brussels Conference in recommending the institution of 
two International Sections in our subject, the one of physical and the 
other of biological Oceanography—although the two overlap and are so 
interdependent that no investigator on the one side can afford to neglect 
the other.* 

On the present occasion I must restrict myself almost wholly to the 
latter division of the subject, and be content, after brief reference to the 

2 The following classification of the primary divisions of the subject may 
possibly be found acceptable :— 

Ag hae 

Oceanography Geography 

I | | | 
Hydrography Metabolism Bionomics Tidology 
(Physics, &¢.) (Bio-Chemistry) (Biology) (Mathematics) 



founders and pioneers of our science, to outline a few of those investi- 
gations and problems which have appeared to me to be of fundamental 
importance, of economic value, or of general interest. 

Although the name Oceanography was only given to this branch of 
science by Sir John Murray in 1880, and although according to that 
veteran oceanographer Mr. J. Y. Buchanan, the last surviving member 
of the civilian staff of the Challenger, the science of Oceanography 
was born at sea on February 15, 1873,* when, at the first official 
dredging station of the expedition, to the westward of Teneriffe, at 
1525 fathoms, everything that came up in the dredge was new and led to 
fundamental discoveries as to the deposits forming on the floor of the 
ocean, still it may be claimed that the foundations of the science were 
laid by various explorers of the ocean at much earlier dates. Aristotle, 
who took all knowledge for his province, was an early oceanographer on 
the shores of Asia Minor. When Pytheas passed between the Pillars 
of Hercules into the unknown Atlantic and penetrated to British seas in 
the fourth century B.c., and brought back reports of Ultima Thule and 
of a sea to the North thick and sluggish like a jelly-fish, he may have 
been recording an early planktonic observation. But passing over all 
such and many other early records of phenomena of the sea, we come 
to surer ground in claiming, as founders of Oceanography, Count 
Marsili, an early investigator of the Mediterranean, and that truly 
scientific navigator Captain James Cook, who sailed to the South Pacific 
on a Transit of Venus expedition in 1769 with Sir Joseph Banks as 
naturalist, and by subsequently circumnavigating the South Sea about 
latitude 60° finally disproved the existence of a great southern 
continent; and Sir James Clerk Ross, who, with Sir Joseph Hooker as 
naturalist, first dredged the Antarctic in 1840. 

The use of the naturalist’s dredge (introduced by O. F. Miller, the 
Dane, in 1799) for exploring the sea-bottom was brought into promin- 
ence almost simultaneously in several countries of North-West Europe 
—by Henri Milne-Edwards in France in 1830, Michael Sars in Norway 
in 1835, and our own Edward Forbes about 1832. 

The last-mentioned genial and many-sided genius was a notable 
figure in several sections of the British Association from about 1836 
onwards, and may fairly be claimed as a pioneer of Oceanography. 
In 1839 he and his friend the anatomist, John Goodsir, were dredging 

° Others might put the date later. Significant publications are Sir John 
Murray’s Summary Volumes of the Challenger (1895), the inauguration of 
the ‘Musée Océanographique’ at Monaco in 1910, the foundation of the 
‘Institut Océanographique’ at Paris in 1906 (see the Prince of Monaco’s 
letter to the Minister of Public Instruction), and Sir John Murray’s little book 
The Ocean (1913), where the superiority of the term ‘Oceanography ’ ‘to 
‘Thalassography ’ (used by Alexander Agassiz) is discussed, 

in the Shetland seas, with results which Forbes made known to. the 
meeting of the British Association at Birmingham that summer, with 
such good effect that a “Dredging Committee’ * of the Association was 
formed to continue the good work. Valuable reports on the discoveries 
of that Committee appear in our volumes at intervals during the subse- 
quent twenty-five years. 

It has happened over and over again in history that the British 
Association, by means of one of its research committees, has led the 
way in some important new research or development of science and has 
shown the Government or an industry what wants doing and how it 
can be done. We may fairly claim that the British Association has 
inspired and fostered that exploration of British seas which through 
marine biological investigations and deep-sea expeditions has led on to 
modern Oceanography. Edward Forbes and the British Association 
Dredging Committee, Wyville Thomson, Carpenter, Gwyn Jeffreys, 
Norman, and other naturalists of the pre-Challenger days—all these men 
in the quarter-century from 1840 onwards worked under research com- 
mittees of the British Association, bringing their results before successive 
meetings; and some of our older volumes _enshrine classic reports on 
dredging by Forbes, McAndrew, Norman, Brady, Alder, and other 
notable naturalists of that day. These local researches paved the way 
for the Challenger and other national deep-sea expeditions. Here, 
as in other cases, it required private enterprise to precede and stimulate 
Government action. 

It is probable that Forbes and his fellow-workers on this ‘ Dredging 
Committee’ in their marine explorations did not fully realise that they 
were Opening up a most comprehensive and important department of 
knowledge. But it is also true that in all his expeditions—in the British 
seas from the Channel Islands to the Shetlands, in Norway, in the 
Mediterranean as far as the Algean Sea—his broad outlook on the 
problems of nature was that of the modern oceanographer, and he was 
the spiritual ancestor of men like Sir Wyville Thomson of the 
Challenger Expedition and Sir John Murray, whose accidental death 
a few years ago, while still in the midst of active work, was a grievous 
loss to this new and rapidly advancing science of the sea. * 

Forbes in these marine investigations worked at border-line 
problems, dealing for example with the relations of Geology to Zoology. 

4 “For researches with the dredge, with a view to the investigation of 
the marine zoology of Great Britain, the illustration of the geographical distri- 
bution of marine animals, and the more accurate determination of the 
fossils of the pieistocene period: under the superintendence of Mr. Gray, Mr. 
Forbes, Mr. Goodsir, Mr. Patterson, Mr, Thompson of Belfast, Mr. Ball of 
Dublin, Dr. George Johnston, Mr. Smith of Jordan Hill, and Mr. A. Strickland, 
£60.’ Report for 1839, p. xxvi. 


and the effect of the past history of the land and sea upon the distri- 
bution of plants and animals at the present day, and in these respects 
he was an early oceanographer. For the essence of that new subject is 
that it also investigates border-line problems and is based upon and 
makes use of all the older fundamental sciences—Physics, Chemistry 
and Biology—and shows for example how variations in the great ocean 
currents may account for the movements and abundance of the migratory 
fishes, and how periodic changes in the physico-chemical characters 
of the sea, such as variations in the hydrogen-ion and hydroxyl-ion 
concentration, are correlated with the distribution at the different seasons 
of the all-important microscopic organisms that render our oceanic 
waters as prolific a source of food as the pastures of the land. 

Another pioneer of the nineteenth century who, I sometimes think, 
has not yet received sufficient credit for his foresight and initiative, is 
Sir Wyville Thomson, whose name ought to go down through the ages 
as the ieader of the scientific staff on the famous Challenger Deep-Sea 
Exploring Expedition. It is due chiefly to him and to his frend 
Dr. W. B. Carpenter that the British Government, through the 
influence of the Royal Society, was induced to place at the disposal of 

-a committee of scientific experts first the small surveying steamer 
Lightning in 1868, and then the more efficient steamer Porcupine 
in the two succeeding years, for the purpose of exploring the deep water 
of the Atlantic from the Faroes in the North to Gibraltar and beyond 
in the South, in the course of which expeditions they got successful 
hauls from the then unprecedented depth of 2435 fathoms, nearly three 
statute miles. 

It will be remembered that Edward Forbes, from his observations in 
the Mediterranean (an abnormal sea in some respects), regarded depths 
of over 300 fathoms as an azoic zone. It was the work of Wyville 
Thomson and his colleagues Carpenter and Gwyn Jeffreys on these 
successive dredging expeditions to prove conclusively what was 
beginning to be suspected by naturalists, that there is no azoic zone in 
the sea, but that abundant life belonging to many groups of animals 
extends down to the greatest depths of from four to five thousand 
fathoms—nearly six statute miles from the surface. 

These pioneering expeditions in the Lightning and Porcupine— 
the results of which are not even yet fully made known to science— 
were epoch-making, inasmuch as they not only opened up this new 
region to the systematic marine biologist, but gave glimpses of world- 
wide problems in connection with the physics, the chemistry and the 
biology of the sea which are only now being adequately investigated by 
the modern oceanographer. These results, which aroused intense 
interest amongst the leading scientific men of the time, were so rapidly 
surpassed and overshadowed by the still greater achievements of the 



Challenger and other national exploring expeditions that followed 
in the ’seventies and ’eighties of last century, that there is some danger 
of their real importance being lost sight of; but it ought never to be 
forgotten that they first demonstrated the abundance of life of a varied 
nature in depths formerly supposed to be azoic, and, moreover, that 
some of the new deep-sea animals obtained were related to extinct forms 
belonging to the Jurassic, Cretaceous and Tertiary periods. 

It is interesting to recall that our Association played its part in 
promoting the movement that led to the Challenger Expedition. 
Our General Committee at the Edinburgh Meeting of 1871 recom- 
mended that the President and Council be authorised to co-operate with 
the Royal Society in promoting ‘a Circumnavigation Expedition, 
specially fitted out to carry the Physical and Biological Exploration of 
the Deep Sea into all the Great Oceanic Areas ’; and our Council subse- 
quently appointed a committee consisting of Dr. Carpenter, Professor 
Huxley and others to co-operate with the Royal Society in carrying out 
these objects. 

It has been said that the Challenger Expedition will rank in history 
with the voyages of Vasco da Gama, Columbus, Magellan and Cook. 
Like these it added new regions of the globe to our knowledge, and the 
wide expanses thus opened up for the first time, the floors of the oceans, 
though less accessible, are vaster than the discoveries of any previous 
exploration. Has not the time come for a new Challenger expedition? 

Sir Wyville Thomson, although leader of the expedition, did not live 
to see the completed results, and Sir John Murray will be remembered 
in the history of science as the Challenger naturalist who brought 
to a successful issue the investigation of the enormous collections and 
the publication of the scientific results of that memorable voyage: these 
two Scots share the honour of having guided the destinies of what is still 
the greatest oceanographic exploration of all times. 

In addition to taking his part in the general work of the expedition, 
Murray devoted special attention to three subjects of primary import- 
ance in the science of the sea, viz.: (1) the plankton or floating life 
of the oceans, (2) the deposits forming on the sea bottoms, and (8) the 
origin and mode of formation of coral reefs and islands. It was 
characteristic of his broad and synthetic outlook on nature that, in place 
of working at the speciography and anatomy of some group of 
organisms, however novel, interesting and attractive to the naturalist 
the deep-sea organisms might seem to be, he took up wide-reaching 
general problems with economic and geological as well as biological 

Hach of the three main lines of investigation—deposits, plankton 
and coral reefs—which Murray undertook on board the Challenger 
has been most fruitful of results both in his own hands and those of 


others: His plankton work has led on to those modern planktonic 
researches which are closely bound up with the scientific investigation 
of our sea-fisheries. 

His work on the deposits accumulating on the floor of the ocean 
resulted, after years of study in the laboratory as well as in the field, 
in collaboration with the Abbé Renard of the Brussels Museum, after- 
wards Professor at Ghent, in the production of the monumental * Deep- 
Sea Deposits’ volume, one of the Challenger Reports, which first 
revealed to the scientific world the detailed nature and distribution 
of the varied submarine deposits of the globe and their relation to the 
rocks forming the crust of the earth. 

These studies led, moreover, to one of the romances of science 
which deeply influenced Murray’s future life and work. In accumu- 
lating material from all parts of the world and all deep-sea exploring 
expeditions for comparison with the Challenger series, some ten 
years later, Murray found that a sample of rock from Christmas Island 
in the Indian Ocean, which had been sent to him by Commander (now 
Admiral) Aldrich, of H.M.S. Egeria, was composed of a valuable 
phosphatic material. This discovery in Murray’s hands gave rise to a 
profitable commercial undertaking, and he was able to show that some 
years ago the British Treasury had already received in royalties and 
taxes from the island considerably more than the total cost of the 
Challenger Expedition. 

That first British circumnavigating expedition on the Challenger 
was followed by other national expeditions (the American Tuscarora 
and Albatross, the French Travailleur, the German Gauss, 
National, and Valdivia, the Italian Vettor Pisani, the Dutch 
Siboga, the Danish Thor and others) and by almost equally cele- 
brated and important work by unofficial oceanographers such as 
Alexander Agassiz, Sir John Murray with Dr. Hjort in the Michael 
Sars, and the Prince of Monaco in his magnificent ocean-going yacht, 
and by much other good work by many investigators in smaller and 
humbler vessels. One of these supplementary expeditions I must refer 
to briefly because of its connection with sea-fisheries. The Triton, 
under Tizard and Murray, in 1882, while exploring the cold and warm 
areas of the Faroe Channel separated by the Wyville-Thomson ridge, 
incidentally discovered the famous Dubh-Artach fishing-grounds, which 
have been worked by British trawlers ever since. 

Notwithstanding all this activity during the last forty years since 
Oceanography became a science, much has still to be investigated in 
all seas in all branches of the subject. On pursuing any line of investi- 
gation one very soon comes up against a wall of the unknown or a maze 
of controversy. Peculiar difficulties surround the subject. The 


matters investigated are often remote and almost inaccessible. 
Unknown factors may enter into every problem. The samples required 
may be at the other end of a rope or a wire eight or ten miles long, 
and the oceanographer may have to grope for them literally in the dark 
and under other difficult conditions which make it uncertain whether 
his samples when obtained are adequate and representative, and whether 
they have undergone any change since leaving thew natural environ- 
ment. It is not surprising then that in the progress of knowledge 
mistakes have been made and corrected, that views have been held on 
what seemed good scientific grounds which later on were proved to 
be erroneous. For example, Edward Forbes, in his division of life in 
the sea into zones, on what then seemed to be sufficiently good obser- 
vations in the Algean, but which we now know to be exceptional, placed 
the limit of life at 300 fathoms, while Wyville Thomson and his fellow- 
workers on the Porcwpine and the Challenger showed that there is no 
azoic zone even in the great abysses. 

Or, again, take the celebrated myth of ‘Bathybius.’ In tthe 
‘sixties of last century samples of Atlantic mud, taken when surveying 
the bottom for the first telegraph cables and preserved in alcohol, were 
found when examined by Huxley, Haeckel and others to contain what 
seemed to be an exceedingly primitive protoplasmic organism, which 
was supposed on good evidence to be widely extended over the floor of the 
ocean. The discovery of this Bathybius was said to solve the problem 
of how the deep-sea animals were nourished in the absence of sea- 
weeds. Here was a widespread protoplasmic meadow upon which other 
organisms could graze. Belief in Bathybius seemed to be confirmed 
and established by Wyville Thomson’s results in the Porcupine 
Expedition of 1869, but was exploded by the naturalists on the Chal- 
lenger some five years later. Buchanan in his recently published 
“Accounts Rendered ’ tells us how he and his colleague Murray were 
keenly on the look-out for hours at a time on all possible occasions 
for traces of this organism, and how they finally proved, in the spring 
of 1875 on the voyage between Hong-Kong and Yokohama, that the 
all-pervading substance like coagulated mucus was an amorphous 
precipitate of sulphate of lime thrown down from the sea-water in the 
mud on the addition of a certain proportion of alcohol. He wrote to 
this effect from Japan to Professor Crum Brown, and it is in evidence 
that after receiving this letter Crum Brown interested his friends in 
Edinburgh by showing them how to make Bathybius in the 
chemical laboratory. Huxley at the Sheffield Meeting of the British 
Association in 1879 handsomely admitted that he had been mistaken, and 
it is said that he characterised Bathybius as ‘ not having fulfilled the 
promise of its youth.’ Will any of our present oceanographic beliefs 


share the fate of Bathybius in the future? Some may, but even if they 
do they may well have been useful steps in the progress of science. 
Although like Bathybius they may not have fulfilled the promise of their 
youth, yet, we may add, they will not have lived in the minds of man 
in vain. 

Many of the phenomena we encounter in oceanographic investi- 
gations are so complex, are or may be affected by so many diverse 
factors, that it is difficult, if indeed possible, to be sure that we are 
unravelling them aright and that we see the real causes of what we 

Some few things we know approximately—nothing completely. We 
know that the greatest depths of the ocean, about six miles, are a 
little greater than the highest mountains on land, and Sir John Murray 
has calculated that if all the land were washed down into the sea the 
whole globe would be covered by an ocean averaging about two miles in 
depth.° We know the distribution of temperatures and salinities over 
a great part of the surface and a good deal of the bottom of the oceans, 
and some of the more important oceanic currents have been charted 
and their periodic variations, such as those of the Gulf Stream, are being 
studied. | We know a good deal about the organisms floating or 
swimming in the surface waters (the epi-plankton), and also those 
brought up by our dredges and trawls from the bottom in many parts 
of the world—although every expedition still makes large additions 
to knowledge. The region that is least known to us, both in its physical 
conditions and also its inhabitants, is the vast zone of intermediate 
waters lying between the upper few hundred fathoms and the bottom. 
That is the region that Alexander Agassiz from his observations with 
closing tow-nets on the Blake Expedition supposed to be destitute of 
life, or at least, as modified by his later observations on the Albatross, 
to be relatively destitute compared with the surface and the bottom, in 
opposition to the contention of Murray and other oceanographers that 
an abundant meso-plankton was present, and that certain groups of 
animals, such as the Challengerida and some kinds of Meduse, were 
characteristic of these deeper zones. I believe that, as sometimes 
happens in scientific controversies, both sides were right up to a point, 
and both could support their views upon observations from particular 
regions of the ocean under certain circumstances. 

But much still remains unknown or only imperfectly known even 
in matters that have long been studied and where practical applications 

° It was possibly in such a former world-wide ocean of ionised water that 
according to the recent speculations of A. H. Church (Zhalassiophyta, 1919) the 
first living organisms were evolved to become later the floating unicellular 
plants of the primitive plankton. 

of great value are obtained—such as the investigation and prediction 
of tidal phenomena. We are now told that theories require re-inyesti- 
gation and that published tables are not sufficiently accurate. To 
take another practical application of oceanographic work, the ultimate 
causes of variations in the abundance, in the sizes, in the movements 
and in the qualities of the fishes of our coastal industries are still to 
seek, and notwithstanding volumes of investigation and a still greater 
volume of discussion, no man who knows anything of the matter is 
satisfied with our present knowledge of even the best-known and 
economically most important of our fishes, such as the Herring, the 
Cod, the Plaice and the Salmon. 

Take the case of our common fresh-water eel as an example of how 
little we know and at the same time of how much has been discovered. 
All the eels of our streams and lakes of N.-W. Europe live and feed 
and grow under our eyes without reproducing their kind—no spawning 
eel has ever been seen. After living for years in immaturity, at last 
near the end of their lives the large male and female yellow eels 
undergo a change in appearance and in nature. They acquire a silvery 
colour and their eyes enlarge, and in this bridal attire they commence 
the long journey which ends in maturity, reproduction and death. From 
all the fresh waters they migrate in the autumn to the coast, from 
the inshore seas to the open ocean and still westward and south to the 

mid-Atlantic and we know not how much further—for the exact 
locality and manner of spawning has still to be discovered. The 
youngest known stages of the Leptocephalus, the larval stage of eels, 
have been found by the Dane, Dr. Johs. Schmidt, to the west of 
the Azores where the water is over 2000 fathoms in depth. These 
_ were about one-third of an inch in length and were probably not long 
hatched. I cannot now refer to all the able investigators—Grassi, 
_ Hjort and others—who have discovered and traced the stages of growth 
_ of the Leptocephalus and its metamorphosis into the ‘ elvers ’ or young 
eels which are carried by the North Atlantic drift back to the coasts of 
Europe and ascend our rivers in spring in countless myriads; but no 
‘man thas been more indefatigable and successful in the quest than 
‘Dr. Schmidt, who in the various expeditions of the Danish Investigation 
‘Steamer Thor from 1904 onwards found successively younger and 
younger stages, and who is during the present summer engaged in a 
traverse of the Atlantic to the West Indies in the hope of finding the 
missing link in the chain, the actual spawning fresh-water eel in the 
intermediate waters somewhere above the abysses of the open ocean.°® 

® According to Schmidt’s results the European fresh-water eel, in order to 

be able to propagate, requires a depth of at least 500 fathoms, a salinity of 
oe an 35.20 per mille and a temperature of more than 7° C. in the required 


Again, take the case of an interesting oceanographic observation 
which, if established, may be found to explain the variations in time 
and amount of important fisheries. Otto Pettersson in 1910 discovered 
by his observations in the Gullmar Fjord the presence of periodic sub- 
marine waves of deeper salter water in the Kattegat and the fjords 
of the west coast of Sweden, which draw in with them from the Jutland 
banks vast shoals of the herrings which congregate there in autumn. 
The deeper layer consists of ‘bankwater’ of salinity 32 to 34 per | 
thousand, and as this rolls in along the bottom as a series of huge © 
undulations it forces out the overlying fresher water, and so the 
herrings living in the bankwater outside are sucked into the Kattegat 
and neighbouring fjords and give rise to important local fisheries. 
Pettersson connects the crests of the submarine waves with the phases 
of the moon. Two great waves of salter water which reached up to the 
surface took place in November 1910, one near the time of full moon 
and the other about new moon, and the latter was at the time when 
the shoals of herring appeared inshore and provided a profitable fishery. 
The coincidence of the oceanic phenomena with the lunar phases is 
not, however, very exact, and doubts have been expressed as to the 
connection; but if established, and even if found to be due not to the 
moon but to prevalent winds or the influence of ocean currents, this 
would be a case of the migration of fishes depending upon mechanical 
causes, while in other cases it is known that migrations are due to 
spawning needs or for the purpose of feeding, as in the case of the 
cod and the herring in the west and north of Norway and in the 
Barents Sea. 

Then, turning to a very fundamental matter of purely scientific 
investigation, we do not know with any certainty what causes the great 
and all-important seasonal variations in the plankton (or floating minute 
life of the sea) as seen, for example, in our own home seas, where there 
is a sudden awakening of microscopic plant life, the Diatoms, in early 
spring when the water is at its coldest. In the course of a few days 
the upper layers of the sea may become so filled with organisms that a 
small silk net towed for a few minutes may capture hundreds of 
millions of individuals. And these myriads of microscopic forms, after 
persisting for a few weeks, may disappear as suddenly as they came, 
to be followed by swarms of Copepoda and many other kinds of minute 
animals, and these again may give place in the autumn to a second 
maximum of Diatoms or of the closely related Peridiniales. Of course 
there are theories as to all these more or less periodic changes in the 
plankton, such as Liebig’s ‘law of the minimum,’ which limits the 
production of an organism by the amount of that necessity of existence 
which is present in least quantity, it may be nitrogen or silicon or 


phosphorus. According to Raben it is the accumulation of silicie acid 
in the sea-water that determines the great increase of Diatoms in spring 
and again in autumn. Some writers have considered these variations 
in the plankton to be caused largely by changes in temperature supple- 
mented, according to Ostwald, by the resulting changes in the viscosity 
of the water; but Murray and others are more probably correct in 
attributing the spring development of phyto-plankton to the increasing 
power of the sunlight and its value in photosynthesis. 

Let us take next the fact—if it be a fact—that the genial warm 
waters of the tropics support a less abundant plankton than the cold 
polar seas. The statement has been made and supported by some 
investigators and disputed by others, both on a certain amount of evi- 

dence. This is possibly a case like some other scientific controversies 

where both sides are partly in the right, or right under certain con- 
ditions. At any rate there are sealed exceptions to the generalisation. 
The German Plankton Expedition in 1889 showed in its results that 

much larger hauls of plankton per unit volume of water were obtained 
in the temperate North and South Atlantic than in the tropics between, 
and that the warm Sargasso Sea had a remarkably scanty microflora. 
Other investigators have since reported more or less similar results. 
Lohmann found the Mediterranean plankton to be less abundant than 

that of the Baltic, gatherings brought back from tropical seas are fre- 
quently very scanty, and enormous hauls on the other hand have been 
recorded from Arctic and Antarctic seas. There is no doubt about the 
large gatherings obtained in northern waters. I have myself in a 
few minutes’ haul of a small horizontal net in the North of Norway 
collected a mass of the large Copepod Calanus finmarchicus sufficient 
to be cooked and eaten like potted shrimps by half a dozen of the 
yacht’s company, and I have obtained similar large hauls in the cold 
Labrador current near Newfoundland. On the other hand, Kofoid and 
Alexander Agassiz have recorded large hauls of plankton in the Humboldt 
current off the west coast of America, and during the Challenger 
Expedition some of the largest quantities of plankton were found in the 
equatorial Pacific. Moreover, it is common knowledge that on occa- 
sions vast swarms of some planktonic organism may be seen in tropical 
waters. The yellow alga Trichodesmium, which is said to have given 
ts name to the Red Sea and has been familiarly known as ‘ sea-sawdust ’ 
since the days of Cook’s first voyage,’ may cover the entire surface over 
considerable areas of the Indian and South Atlantic Oceans; and some 
elagic animals such as Salpe, Meduse and Ctenophores are also 
ommonly present in abundance in the tropics. Then, again, American 

7 See Journal of Sir Joseph Banks. This and other swarms were also 
joticed by Darwin during the voyage of the Beagle, 


biologists * have pointed out that the warm waters of the West Indies 
and Florida may be noted for the richness of their floating life for 
periods of years, while at other times the pelagic organisms become 
rare and the region is almost a desert sea. 

It is probable, on the whole, that the distribution and variations 
of oceanic currents have more than latitude or temperature alone to do 
with any observed scantiness of tropical plankton. These mighty 
rivers of the ocean in places teem with animal and plant life, and may 
sweep abundance of food from one region to another in the open sea. 

But even if it be a fact that there is this alleged deficiency in tropical 
plankton there is by no means agreement as to the cause thereof. 
Brandt first attributed the poverty of the plankton in the tropics to the 
destruction of nitrates in the sea as a result of the greater intensity of 
the metabolism of denitrifying bacteria in the warmer water; and 
various other writers since then have more or less agreed that the 
presence of these denitrifying bacteria, by keeping down to a minimum 
the nitrogen concentration in tropical waters, may account for the 
relative scarcity of the phyto-plankton, and consequently of the 
’ zoo-plankton, that has been observed. But Gran, Nathansohn, Murray, 
Hjort and others have shown that such bacteria are rare or absent 
in the open sea, that their action must be negligible, and that Brandt’s 
hypothesis is untenable. It seems clear, moreover, that the plankton 
does not vary directly with the temperature of the water. Furthermore, 
Nathansohn has shown the influence of the vertical circulation in the 
water upon the nourishment of the phyto-plankton—by rising currents 
bringing up necessary nutrient materials, and especially carbon dioxide 
from the bottom layers; and also possibly by conveying the products of 
the drainage of tropical lands to more polar seas so as to maintain the 
more abundant life in the colder water. 

Piitter’s view is that the increased metabolism in the warmer water 
causes all the available food materials to be rapidly used up, and so 
puts a check to the reproduction of the plankton. 

According to Van’t Hoff’s law in Chemistry, the rate at which a 
reaction takes place is increased by raising the temperature, and this 
probably holds good for all bio-chemical phenomena, and therefore for 
the metabolism of animals and plants in the sea. This has been 
verified experimentally in some cases by J. Loeb. The contrast 
between the plankton of Arctic and Antarctic zones, consisting of large 
numbers of small Crustaceans belonging to comparatively few species, 
and that of tropical waters, containing a great many more species 
generally of smaller size and fewer in number of individuals, is to be 

® A. Agassiz, A. G. Mayer, and H, B. Bigelow. 


accounted for, according to Sir John Murray and others, by the rate 
of metabolism in the organisms. ‘The assemblages captured in cold 
polar waters are of different ages and stages, young and adults of 
several generations occurring together in profusion,’ and it is supposed 
that the adults ‘ may be ten, twenty or more years of age.’ At the 
low temperature the action of putrefactive bacteria and of enzymes 
is very slow or in abeyance, and the vital actions of the Crustacea 
take place more slowly and the individual lives are longer. On the 
other hand, in the warmer waters of the tropics the action of the 
bacteria is more rapid, metabolism in general is more active, and the 
various stages in the life-history are passed through more rapidly, 
so that the smaller organisms of equatorial seas probably only live for 
days or weeks in place of years. 

This explanation may account also for the much greater quantity 
of living organisms which has been found so often on the sea floor 
in polar waters. It is a curious fact that the development of the 
polar marine animals is in general ‘ direct’ without larval pelagic stages, 
the result being that the young settle down on the floor of the ocean 
in the neighbourhood of the parent forms, so that there come to be 
enormous congregations of the same kind of animal within a limited 
area, and the dredge will in a particular haul come up filled with 
hundreds, it may be, of an Echinoderm, a Sponge, a Crustacean, a 
Brachiopod, or an Ascidian; whereas in warmer seas the young pass 
through a pelagic stage and so become more widely distributed over 
the floor of the ocean. The Challenger Expedition found in the 
Antarctic certain Echinoderms, for example, which had young in 
various stages of development attached to some part of the body of the 
parents, whereas in temperate or tropical regions the same class of 
animals set free their eggs and the development proceeds in the open 
water quite independently of, and it may be far distant from, the 

Another characteristic result of the difference in temperature is that 
the secretion of carbonate of lime in the form of shells and skeletons 
proceeds more rapidly in warm than in cold water. The massive shells 
of molluscs, the vast deposits of carbonate of lime formed by corals 
and by calcareous seaweeds, are characteristic of the tropics ; whereas 
in polar seas, while the animals may be large, they are for the most 
part soft-bodied and destitute of calcareous secretions. The calcareous 
pelagic Foraminifera are characteristic of tropical and sub-tropical 

. plankton, and few, if any, are found in polar waters. Globigerina 

_ * Whether, however, the low temperature may not also retard reproduction 
is worthy of consideration. 


ooze, a calcareous deposit, is abundant in equatorial seas, while in the 
Antarctic the characteristic deposit is siliceous Diatomaceous ooze. 

The part played by bacteria in the metabolism of the sea is very 
important and probably of wide-reaching effect, but we still know very 
litfle about it. A most promising young Cambridge biologist, the late 
Mr. G. Harold Drew, now unfortunately lost to science, had already 
done notable work at Jamaica and at Tortugas, Florida, on the effects 
produced by a bacillus which is found in the surface waters of these 
shallow tropical seas and in the mud at the bottom ; and which denitrifies 
nitrates and nitrites, giving off free nitrogen. He found that this 
Bacillus calcis also caused the precipitation of soluble calcium salts 
in the form of calcium carbonate (‘ drewite ’) on a large scale, in the 
warm shallow waters. Drew’s observations tend to show that the 
great calcareous deposits of Florida and the Bahamas previously known 
as ‘coral muds’ are not, as was supposed by Murray and others, 
derived from broken-up corals, shells, nullipores, &c., but are minute 
particles of carbonate of lime which have been precipitated by the 
action of these bacteria.*° 

The bearing of these observations upon the formation of oolitic 
limestones and the fine-grained unfossiliferous Lower Paleozoic lime- 
stones of New York State, recently studied in this connection by R. M. 
Field,’? must be of peculiar interest to geologists, and forms a notable 
instance of the annectant character of Oceanography, bringing the 
metabolism of living organisms in the modern sea into relation with — 
paleozoic rocks. 

The work of marine biologists on the plankton has been in the 
main qualitative, the identification of species, the observation of struc- 
ture, and the tracing of life-histories. The oceanographer adds to that 
the quantitative aspect when he attempts to estimate numbers and 
masses per unit volume of water or of area. Let me lay before you 
a few thoughts in regard to some such attempts, mainly for the 
purpose of showing the difficulties of the investigation.. Modern quanti- 
tative methods owe their origin to the ingenious and laborious work 
of Victor Hensen, followed by Brandt, Apstein, Lohmann, and others 
of the Kiel school of quantitative planktologists. We may take their 
well-known estimations of fish eggs in the North Sea as an example 
of the method. 

The floating eggs and embryos of our more important food fishes 
may occur in quantities in the plankton during certain months in 
spring, and Hensen and Apstein have made some notable calculations 

+9 Journ. Mar. Biol. Assoc., October 1911. 
1 Carnegie Institute of Washington, Year Book for 1919, p, 197, 


based ‘on the occurréncé of these in certain hauls taken at intervals 
across the North Sea, which led them to the conclusion that, taking 
six of our most abundant fish, such as the cod and some of the flat 
fish, the eggs present were probably produced by about 1200 million 
spawners, enabling them to calculate that the total fish population 
of the North Sea’ (of these six species), at that time (spring of 1895), 
amounted to about 10,000 millions. Further calculations led them 
to the result that the fishermen’s catch of these fishes amounted 
to about one-quarter of the total population: Now all this is not only 
of scientific interest, but also of great practical importance if we could 
be sure that the samples upon which the calculations are based were 
adequate and representative, but it will be noted that these samples 
only represent one square metre in 3,465,968,354. Hensen’s state- 
ment, repeated in various works in slightly differing words, is to the 
effect that, using a net of which the constants are known hauled 
vertically through a column of water from a certain depth to the 
surface, he can calculate the volume of water filtered by the net and 
so estimate the quantity of plankton under each square metre of the 
surface; and his whole results depend upon the assumption, which 
he considers justified, that the plankton is evenly distributed over 
large areas of water which are under similar conditions. In these 
calculations in regard to the fish eggs he takes the whole of the North 
Sea as being an area under similar conditions, but we have known 
since the days of P. T. Cleve and from the observations of Hensen’s 
own colleagues that this is not the case, and they have published chart- 
diagrams showing that at least three different kinds of water under 
different conditions are found in the North Sea, and that at least five 
different planktonic areas may be encountered in making a traverse 
from Germany to the British Isles. If the argument be used that 
wherever the plankton is found to vary there the conditions cannot 
be uniform, then few areas of the ocean of any considerable size remain 
as cases suitable for population-computation from randem samples. 
It may be doubted whether even the Sargasso Sea, which is an area 
of more than usually uniform character, has a ‘sufficiently evenly 
distributed plankton to be treated by Hensen’s method of estimation 
of the population. 

In the German Plankton Expedition of 1889 Schiitt reports that 
in the Sargasso Sea, with its relatively high temperature, the twenty- 
four catches obtained were uniformly small in quantity. His analysis 
of the volumes of these catches shows that the average was 3:33 c.c., 
but the individual catches ranged from 1:5 c.c. to 65 ¢.c., and the diver- 
gence from the average may be as great as + 3°2'c.c. ; and, after deduct- 

ing 20 per cent. of the divergence as due to errors of the experiment, 
1920 a 


Schiitt estimates the mean variation of the plankton at about 16 per 
cent. above or below. This does not seem to me to indicate the 
uniformity that might be expected in this ‘ halistatic’’ area occupying 
the centre of the North Atlantic Gulf Stream circulation. Hensen 
also made almost simultaneous hauls with the same net in quick 
succession to test the amount of variation, and found that the average 
error was about 13 per cent. 

As so much depends in all work at sea upon the weather, the con- 
ditions under which the ship is working, and the care taken in the 
experiment, with the view of getting further evidence under known 
conditions I carried out some similar experiments at Port Erin on four 
occasions during last April and on a further occasion a month later, 
choosing favourable weather and conditions of tide and wind, so as 
to be able to maintain an approximate position. On each of four days 
in April the Nansen net, with No. 20 silk, was hauled six times from 
the same depth (on two occasions 8 fathoms and on -two occasions 
20 fathoms), the hauls being taken in rapid succession and the catches 
being emptied from the net into bottles of 5 per cent. formaline, in 
which they remained until examined microscopically. 

The results were of interest, for although they showed considerable 
uniformity in the amount of the catch——for example, six successive 
hauls from 8 fathoms being all of them 0:2 c.c. and four out of five 
from 20 fathoms being 0°6 ¢.c.—the volume was made up rather 
differently in the successive hauls. The same organisms are present 
for the most part in each haul, and the chief groups of organisms are 
present in much the same proportion. For example, in a series where 
the Copepoda average about 100 the Dinoflagellates average about 300 
and the Diatoms about 8000, but the percentage deviation of indi- 
vidual hauls from the average may be as much as plus or minus 50. 
The numbers for each organism (about 40) in each of the twenty-six 
hauls have been worked out, and the details will be published elsewhere, 
but the conclusion I come to is that if on each occasion one haul only, 
in place of six, had been taken, and if one had used that haul to 
estimate the abundance of any one organism in that sea-area, one 
might have been about 50 per cent. wrong in either direction. 

Successive improvements and additions to Hensen’s methods in 
collecting plankton have been made by Lohmann, Apstein, Gran, and 
others, such as pumping up water of different layers through a hose- 
pipe and filtering it through felt, filter-paper, and other materials 
which retain much of the micro-plankton that escapes through the 
meshes of the finest silk. Use has even been made of the extraordinarily 
minute and beautifully regular natural filter spun by the pelagic animal 
Appendicularia for the capture of its own food. This grid-like trap, 


when dissected out and examined under the microscope, reveals a 
surprising assemblage of the smallest protozoa and protophyta, less 
than 30 micro-millimetres in diameter, which would all pass easily 
through the meshes of our finest silk nets. 

The latest refinement in capturing the minutest-known organisms 
of the plankton (excepting the bacteria) is a culture method devised 
by Dr. E. J. Allen, Director of the Plymouth Laboratory.’ By diluting 
half a cubic centimetre of the sea-water with a considerable amount 
(1500 ¢.c.) of sterilised water treated with a nutrient solution, and 
distributing that over a large number (70) of small flasks in which 
after an interval of some days the number of different kinds of organisms 
which had developed in each flask were counted, he calculates that 
the sea contains 464,000 of such organisms per litre; and he gives 
reasons why his cultivations must be regarded as minimum results, 

‘and states that the total per litre may well be something like a million. 
Thus every new method devised seems to multiply many timés the 
probable total population of the sea. As further results of the quan- 
titative method it may be recorded that Brandt found about 200 diatoms 
per drop of water in Kiel Bay, and Hensen estimated that there are 
several hundred millions of diatoms under each square metre of the 
North Sea or the Baltic. It has been calculated that there is approxi- 
mately one Copepod in each cubic inch of Baltic water, and that the 
annual consumption of these Copepoda by herring is about a thousand 
billion; and that in the 16 square miles of a certain Baltic fishery 
there is Copepod food for over 530 millions of herring of an average 
weight of 60 grammes. 

There are many other problems of the plankton in addition to 
quantitative estimates—probably some that we have not yet recognised— 
and various interesting conclusions may be drawn from recent planktonic 
observations. Here is a case of the introduction and rapid spread of 
a form new to British seas. 

Biddulphia sinensis is an exotic diatom which, according to Osten- 
feld, made its appearance at the mouth of the Elbe in 1903, and spread 
during successive years in several directions. It appeared suddenly 
in our plankton gatherings at Port Erin in November 1909, and has 
been present in abundance each year since. Ostenfeld, in 1908, when 
tracing its spread in the North Sea, found that the migration to the 
north along the coast of Denmark to Norway corresponded with the 
rate of flow of the Jutland current to the Skagerrak—viz., about 17 cm. 
per second—a case of plankton distribution throwing light on hydro- 
graphy—and he predicted that it would soon be found in the English 

2 Journ. Mar, Biol. Assoc. xii, 1, July 1919. 


Channel. Dr. Marie Lebour, who recently examined the store of 
plankton gatherings at the Plymouth Laboratory, finds that as a matter 
of fact this form did appear in abundance in the collections of October 
1909, within a month of the time when according to our records it 
reached Port Erin. Whether or not this is an Indo-Pacific species 
brought accidentally by a ship from the Far East, or whether it is 
possibly a new mutation which appeared suddenly in our seas, there 
is no doubt that it was not present in our Irish Sea plankton gatherings 
previous to 1909, but has been abundant since that year, and has 
completely adopted the habits of its English relations—appearing with 
B. mobiliensis in late autumn, persisting during the winter, reaching a 
maximum in spring, and dying out before summer. 

The Nauplius and Cypris stages of Balanus in the plankton form 
an interesting study. The adult barnacles are present in enormous | 
abundance on the rocks round the coast, and they reproduce in winter, 
at the beginning of the year. The newly emitted young are sometimes 
so abundant as to make the water in the shore pools and in the sea 
close to shore appear muddy. The Nauplii first appeared at Port Erin, 
in 1907, in the bay gatherings on February 22 (in 1908 on Feb- 
ruary 13), and increased with ups and downs to their maximum on 
April 15, and then decreased until their disappearance on April 26. 
None were taken at any other time of the year. The Cypris stage 
follows on after the Nauplius. It was first taken in the bay on 
April 6, rose to its maximum on the same day with the Nauplii, and 
was last caught on May 24. Throughout, the Cypris curve keeps 
below that of the Nauplius, the maxima being 1740 and 10,500 respec- 
tively. Probably the difference between the two curves represents the 
death-rate of Balanus during the Nauplius stage. That conclusion I 
think we are justified in drawing, but I would not venture to use the 
result of any haul, or the average of a number of hauls, to multiply by 
the number of square yards in a zone round our coast in order to 
obtain an estimate of the number of young barnacles, or of the old 
barnacles that produced them—the irregularities are too great. ; 

To my mind it seems clear that there must be three factors making 
for irregularity in the distribution of a plankton organism :— 

1. The sequence of stages in its life-history—such as the Nauplius 
and Cypris stages of Balanus. ; 

2. The results of interaction with other organisms—as when a 
swarm of Calanus is pursued and devoured by a shoal of herring. 

3. Abnormalities in time or abundance due to the physical environ- 
ment—as in favourable or unfavourable seasons. 

And these factors must be at work in the open ocean as well as in 
coastal waters. 


In many oceanographical inquiries there is a double object. There 
is the scientific interest and there is the practical utility—the interest, 
for example, of tracing a particular swarm of a. Copepod like Calanus, 
and of making out why it is where it is at a particular time, tracing it 
back to its place of origin, finding that it has come with a particular 
body of water, and perhaps that it is feeding upon a particular assem- 
blage of Diatoms ; endeavouring to give a scientific explanation of every 
stage in its progress. Then there is the utility—the demonstration 
that the migration of the Calanus has determined the presence of a 
shoal of herrings or mackerel that are feeding upon it, and so have 
been brought within the range of the fisherman and have constituted 
a commercial fishery. 

We have evidence that pelagic fish which congregate in shoals, 
such as herring and mackerel, feed upon the Crustacea of the plankton 
and especially upon Copepoda. A few years ago when the summer 
herring fishery off the south end of the Isle of Man was unusually near 
the land, the fishermen found large red patches in the sea where the 
fish were specially abundant. Some of the red stuff, brought ashore 
by the men, was examined at the Port Erin Laboratory and found to 
be swarms of the Copepod Temora longicornis; and the stomachs of 
the herring caught at the same time were engorged with the same 
organism. It is not possible to doubt that dnring these weeks of the 
herring fishery in the Irish Sea the fish were feeding mainly upon this 
species of Copepod. Some ten years ago Dr. E. J. Allen and Mr. 
G. E. Bullen published ** some interesting work, from the Plymouth 
Marine Laboratory, demonstrating the connection between mackerel 
and Copepoda and sunshine in the English Channel; and Farran' 
states that in the spring fishery on the West of Ireland the food of the 
mackerel is mainly composed of Calanus. 

Then again at the height of the summer mackerel fishery in the 
Hebrides, in 1913, we found” the fish feeding upon the large Copepod 
Calanus finmarchicus, which was caught in the tow-net at the rate of 
about 6000 in a five-minutes’ haul, and 6000 was also the average 
number found in the stomachs of the fish caught at the same time. 

These were cases where the fish were feeding upon the organism 
that was present in swarms—a monotonic plankton—but in other cases 
the fish are clearly selective in their diet. If the sardine of the French 
coast can pick out from the micro-plankton the minute Peridiniales in 
preference to the equally minute Diatoms which are present in the sea 

at the same time, there seems no reason why the herring and the 

18 Journ. Mar. Biol. Assoc. vol. viii. (1909), pp. 394-406. 
M4 Conseil Internat. Bull, Trimestr, 1902-8, ‘ Planktonique,’ p, 89. 
18 * Spolia Runiana,’ iii. Linn. Soc. Journ., Zoology, vol. xxxiv. p. 95, 1918. 


mackerel should not be able to select particular species of Copepoda 
or other large organisms from the macro-plankton, and we have 
evidence that they do. Nearly thirty years ago the late Mr. Isaac 
Thompson, a constant supporter of the Zoological Section of this Asso- 
ciation and one of the Honorary Local Secretaries for the last Liver- 
pool meeting, showed me in 1893 that young plaice at Port Erin were 
selecting one particular Copepod, a species of Jonesiella, out of many 
others caught in our tow-nets at the time. H. Blegvad*® showed in 
1916 that young food fishes and also small shore fishes pick out certain 
species of Copepoda (such as Harpacticoids) and catch them individually 
—either lying in wait or searching for them. A couple of years later *’ 
Dr. Marie Lebour published a detailed account of her work at Plymouth 
on the food of young fishes, proving that certain fish undoubtedly do 
prefer certain planktonic food. 

These Crustacea of the plankton feed upon smaller and simpler 
organisms—the Diatoms, the Peridinians, and the Flagellates—and the 
fish themselves in their youngest post-larval stages are nourished by 
the same minute forms of the plankton. Thus it appears that our sea- 
fisheries ultimately depend upon the living plankton which no doubt 
in its turn is affected by hydrographic conditions. A correlation seems 
to be established between the Cornish pilchard fisheries and periodic 
variations in the physical characters (probably the salinity) of the 
water of the English Channel between Plymouth and Jersey.** Appa- 
rently a diminished intensity in the Atlantic current corresponds with 
a diminished fishery in the following summer. Possibly the connection 
in these cases is through an organism of the plankton. 

It is only a comparatively small number of different kinds of 
organisms—both plants and animals—that make up the bulk of the 
plankton that is of real importance to fish. One ean select about half- 
a-dozen species of Copepoda which constitute the greater part of the 
summer zoo-plankton suitable as food for larval or adult fishes, and 
about the same number of generic types of Diatoms which similarly 
make up the bulk of the available spring phyto-plankton year after 
year. This fact gives great economic importance to the attempt to 
determine with as much precision as possible the times and conditions 
of occurrence of these dominant factors of the plankton in an average 
year. An cbvious further extension of this investigation is an inquiry 
into the degree of coincidence between the times of appearance in the 
sea of the plankton organisms and of the young fish, and the possible 
effect of any marked absence of correlation in time and quantity. 

Just before the war the International Council for the Exploration 

6 Rep. Danish Biol. Stat. xxiv. 1916. 

17 Journ, Mar. Biol. Assoc. May 1918. 
18 See E. C. Jee, Hydrography of the English Channel, 1904-17. 


of the Sea’*® arrived at the conclusion that fishery investigations indi- 
cated the probability that the great periodic fluctuations in the fisheries 
are connected with the fish larve being developed in great quantities 
only in certain years. Consequently they advised that plankton work 
should be directed primarily to the question whether these fluctuations 
depend upon differences in the plankton production in different years. 
It was then proposed to begin systematic investigation of the fish 
larvee and the plankton in spring and to determine more definitely the 
food of the larval fish at various stages. 

About the same time Dr. Hjort*® made the interesting suggestion 
that possibly the great fluctuations in the number of young fish observed 
from year to year may not depend wholly upon the number of eggs 
produced, but also upon the relation in time between the hatching of 
these eggs and the appearance in the water of the enormous quantity 
of Diatoms and other plant plankton upon which the larval fish after 
the absorption of their yolk depend for food. He points out that if 
even a brief interval occurs between the time when the larve first 
require extraneous nourishment and the period when such food is 
available, it is highly probable that an enormous mortality would result. 
In that case even a rich spawning season might yield but a poor result 
in fish in the commercial fisheries of successive years for some time to 
come. So that, in fact, the numbers of a year-class may depend not 
so much upon a favourable spawning season as upon a coincidence 
between the hatching of the larve and the presence of abundance of 
phyto-plankton available as food.** 

The curve for the spring maximum of Diatoms corresponds in a 
general way with the curve representing the occurrence of pelagic fish 
eggs in our seas. But is the correspondence sufficiently exact and 
constant to meet the needs of the case? The phyto-plankton may still 
be relatively small in amount during February and part of March in 
some years, and it is not easy to determine exactly when, in the open 
sea, the fish eggs have hatched out in quantity and the larve have 
absorbed their food-yolk and started feeding on Diatoms. 

If, however, we take the case of one important fish—the plaice—we 
can get some data from our hatching experiments at the Port Erin 
Biological Station which have now been carried on for a period of 
seventeen years. An examination of the hatchery records for these 
years in comparison with the plankton records of the neighbouring sea, 
which have been kept systematically for the fourteen years from 1907 

19 Rapports et Proc. Verb. xix. December 1913. 

20 Rapports et Proc. Verb. xx. 1914, p. 204. 

21 For the purpose of this argument we may include in ‘ phyto-plankton ’ 
the various groups of Flagellata and other minute organisms which may be 
present with the Diatoms, 


to 1920 inclusive, shows that in most of these years the Diatoms were 
present in abundance in the sea a few days at least before the fish 
larvee from the hatchery were set free, and that it was only in four 
years (1908, 09, ’18, and ‘14) that there was apparently some risk of 
the larve: finding no phyto-plankten food, or very little. The evidence 
so far seems to show that if fish larve are set free in the sea as late as 
March 20, they are fairly sure of finding suitable food;** but if they 
are hatched as early as February they run some chance of being 

But this does not exhaust the risks to the future fishery. C. G. 
Joh. Petersen and Boysen-Jensen in their valuation of the Limfjord* 
have shown that in the case not only of some fish but also of the larger 
invertebrates on which they feed there are marked fluctuations in the 
number of young produced in different seasons, and that it is only at 
intervals of years that a really large stock of young is added to the 

The prospects of a year’s fishery may therefore depend primarily 
upon the rate of spawning of the fish, affected no doubt by hydrographic 
and other environmental conditions, secondarily upon the presence of a 
sufficient supply of phyto-plankton in the surface layers of the sea at 
the time when the fish larve are hatched, and that in its turn depends 
upon photosynthesis and physico-chemical changes in the water, and 
finally upon the reproduction of the stock of molluscs or worms at the 
bottom which constitute the fish food at later stages of growth and 

The question has been raised of recent years—Is there enough 
plankton in the sea to provide sufficient nourishment for the larger 
animals, and especially for those fixed forms such as sponges that are 
supposed to feed by drawing currents of plankton-laden water through 
the body? Ina series of remarkable papers from 1907 onwards Piitter 
and his followers put forward the views (1) that the carbon require- 
ments of such animals could not be met by the amount of plankton 
in the volume of water that could be passed through the body in a 
given time, and (2) that sea-water contained a large amount of dis- 
solved organic carbon compounds which constitute the chief if not 
the only food of a large number of marine animals. These views 
have given rise to much controversy and have been useful in stimu- 
lating further research, but I believe it is now admitted that Piitter’s 
samples of water from the Bay of Naples and at Kiel were probably 
polluted, that his figures were erroneous, and that his conclusions 

22 All dates and statements as to occurrence refer to the Irish Sea round 
the south end of the Isle of Man. For further details see Report Lancs. Sea- 

Fish, Lab. for 1919. 
23 Report of Danish Biol. Station for 1919. 


must be rejected, or at least greatly modified. His estimates of the 
plankton were minimum ones, while it seems probable that his figures 
for the organic carbon present represent a variable amount of organic 
matter arising from one of the reagents used in the analysis.** The 
later experimental work of Henze, of Raben, and of Moore shows that 
the organic carbon dissolved in sea-water is an exceedingly minute 
quantity, well within the limits of experimental error. Moore puts it, 
at the most, at one-millionth part, or 1 mgm. ina litre. At the Dundee 
meeting of the Association in 1912 a discussion on this subject took 
place, at which Piitter still adhered to a modified form of his hypothesis 
of the inadequacy of the plankton and the nutrition of lower marine 
animals by the direct absorption of dissolved organic matter. Further 
work at Port Erin since has shown that, while the plankton supply 
as found generally distributed would prove sufficient for the nutrition 
of such sedentary animals as Sponges and Ascidians, which require ta 
filter only about fifteen times their own volume of water per hour, 
it is quite inadequate for active animals such as Crustaceans and Fishes. 
These latter are, however, able to seek out and capture their food, and 
are not dependent on what they may filter or absorb from the sea- 
water. This result accords well with recorded observations on the 
irregularity in the distribution of the plankton, and with the variations 
in the occurrence of the migratory fishes which may be regarded as 
_ following and feeding upon the swarms of planktonic organisms. 
. This then, like most of the subjects I am dealing with, is still a 
_ matter of controversy, still not completely understood. Our need, then, 
is Research, more Research, and still more Research. 
Our knowledge of the relations bétween plankton productivity and 
_ variation and the physico-chemical environment is still in its infancy, 
but gives promise of great results in the hands of the bio-chemist and 
_ the physical chemist. 
4 Recent papers by Sérensen, Palitzsch, Witting, Moore, and others 
have made clear that the amount of hydrogen-ion concentration as 
indicated by the relative degree of alkalinity and acidity in the sea- 
water may undergo local and periodic variations and that these have 
an. effect upon the living organisms in the water and can be correlated 
with their presence and abundance. To take an example from our 
own seas, Professor Benjamin Moore and his assistants in their work 
at the Port Erin Biological Station in successive years from 1912 
onwards have shown** that the sea around the Isle of Man is a good 
deal more alkaline in spring (say April) than it is in summer (say 
24 See Moore, etc., Bio.-Chem. Journ. vi. p. 266, 1912. 
4 *5'* Photosynthetic phenomena in sea-water,’ Z'rans. Liverpool Biol. Soc. 
_ ~XX1xX. 233, 1915. 


July). The alkalinity, which gets low in summer, increases somewhat 
in autumn, and then decreases rapidly, to disappear during the winter ; 
and then once more, after several months of a minimum, begins to 
come into evidence again in March, and rapidly rises to its maximum 
in April or May. This periodic change in alkalinity will be seen to 
correspond roughly with the changes in the living microscopic contents 
of the sea represented by the phyto-plankton annual curve, and the 
connection between the two will be seen when we realise that the 
alkalinity of the sea is due to the relative absence of carbon dioxide. 
In early spring, then, the developing myriads of diatoms in their 
metabolic processes gradually use up the store of carbon dioxide accumu- 
lated during the winter, or derived from the bi-carbonates of calcium 
and magnesium, and so increase the alkalinity of the water, till the 
maximum of alkalinity, due to the fixation of the carbon and the reduc- 
tion in amount of carbon dioxide, corresponds with the crest of the 
phyto-plankton curve in, say, April. Moore has calculated that the 
annual turnover in the form of carbon which is used up or converted 
from the inorganic into an organic form probably amounts to some- 
thing of the order of 20,000 or 30,000 tons of carbon per cubic mile 
of sea-water, or, say, over an area of the Irish Sea measuring 16 square 
miles and a depth of 50 fathoms; and this probably means a production 
each season of about two tons of dry organic matter, corresponding to 
at least ten tons of moist vegetation, per acre—which suggests that 
we may still be very far from getting from our seas anything like the 
amount of possible food-matters that are produced annually. 

Testing the alkalinity of the sea-water may therefore be said to be 
merely ascertaining and measuring the results of the photosynthetic 
activity of the great phyto-plankton rise in spring due to the daily 
increase of sunlight. 

The marine biologists of the Carnegie Institute, Washington, have 
made a recent contribution to the subject in certain observations on 
the alkalinity of the sea (as determined by hydrogen-ion concentration), 
during which they found in tropical mid-Pacific a sudden change to 
acidity in a current running eastwards. Now in the Atlantic the Gulf 
Stream, and tropical Atlantic waters generally, are much more alkaline 
than the colder coastal water running south from the Gulf of St. 
Lawrence. ‘That is, the colder Arctic water has more carbon dioxide. 
This suggests that the Pacific easterly set may be due to deeper water, 
containing more carbon dioxide (=acidity), coming to the surface at 
that point. The alkalinity of the sea-water can be determined rapidly 
by mixing the sample with a few drops of an indicator and observing 
the change of colour; and this method of detecting ocean currents by 
observing the hydrogen-ion concentration of the water might be useful 
to navigators as showing the time of entrance to a known current. 

— Er 


Oceanography has many practical applications—chiefly, but by no 
means wholly, on the biological side. The great fishing industries of 
the world deal with living organisms, of which all the vital activities 
and the inter-relations with the environment are matters of scientific 
investigation. Adquiculture is as susceptible of scientific treatment as 
agriculture can be; and the fisherman who has been in the past too 
much the nomad and the hunter—if not, indeed, the devastating raider— 
must become in the future the settled farmer of the sea if his harvest 
is to be less precarious. Perhaps the nearest approach to cultivation 
of a marine product, and of the fisherman reaping what he has actually 
sown, is seen in the case of the oyster and mussel industries on the 
west coast of France, in Holland, America, and to a less extent on 
our own coast. Much jas been done by scientific men for these and 
other similar coastal fisheries since the days when Professor Coste 
in France in 1859 introduced oysters from the Scottish oyster-beds to 
start the great industry at Arcachon and elsewhere. Now we buy 
back the descendants of our own oysters from the French ostreicul- 
turists to replenish our depleted beds. 

It is no small matter to have introduced a new and important food- 
fish to the markets of the world. The remarkable deep-water ‘tile- 
fish,’ new to science and described as Lopholatilus chameleonticeps, 
was discovered in 1879 by one of the United States fishing schooners 
to the south of Nantucket, near the 100-fathom line. Several thousand 
pounds weight were caught, and the matter was duly investigated by 
the United States Fish Commission. For a couple of years after that 
the fish was brought to market in quantity, and then something unusual 
happened at the bottom of the sea, and in 1882 millions of dead tile- 
fish were found floating on the surface over an area of thousands of 
square miles. The schooner Navarino sailed for two days and a night 
through at least 150 miles of sea, thickly covered as far as the eye 

could reach with dead fish, estimated at 256,000 to the square mile. 

The Fish Commission sent a vessel to fish systematically over the 
grounds known as the ‘ Gulf Stream slope,’ where the tile-fish had 
been so abundant during the two previous years, but she did not catch 
a single fish, and the associated sub-tropical invertebrate fauna was 
also practically obliterated. 

This wholesale destruction was attributed by the American oceano- 
graphers to a sudden change in the temperature of the water at the 
bottom, due in all probability to a withdrawal southwards of the warm 
Gulf Stream water and a flooding of the area by the cold Labrador 

I am indebted to Dr. C. H. Townsend, Director of the celebrated 
New York Aquarium, for the latest information in regard to the 


yeappearance in quantity of this valuable fish upon the old fishing grounds 
off Nantucket and Long Island, at about 100 miles from the coast to 
the east and south-east of New York. It is believed that the tile-fish 
is now abundant enough to maintain an important fishery, which will 
add an excellent food-fish to the markets of the United States. It is 
easily caught with lines at all seasons of the year, and reaches a 
length of over three feet and a weight of 40 to 50 pounds. During 
July 1915 the product of the fishery was about two and a half million 
pounds weight, valued at 55,000 dollars, and in the first few months 
of 1917 the catch was four and a half million pounds, for which the 
fishermen received 247,000 dollars. 

We can scarcely hope in European seas to add new food-fishes to our 
markets, but much may be done through the qp-operation of scientific 
investigators of the ocean with the Administrative Departments to bring: 
about a more rational conservation and exploitation of the national 

Earlier in this address I referred to the pioneer work of the dis- 
tinguished Manx naturalist, Professor Edward Forbes. There are 
many of his writings and of his lectures which I have no space to 
refer to which have points of oceanographic interest. Take this, for 
example, in reference to our national sea fisheries. We find him in 
1847 writing to a friend: ‘ On Friday night I lectured at the Royal 
Institution. The subject was the bearing of submarine researches and 
distribution matters on the fishery question. I pitched into Govern- 
ment mismanagement pretty strong, and made a fair case of it. It 
seems to me that at a time when half the country is starving we are 
utterly neglecting or grossly mismanaging great sources of wealth 
and food. . . . Were I arich man I would make the subject a hobby, 
for the good of the country and for the better proving that the true 
interests of Government are those linked with and inseparable from 
Science.’ We must still cordially approve of these last words, while 
recognising that our Government Department of Fisheries is now being 
organised on better lines, is itself carrying on scientific work of national 
importance, and is, I am happy to think, in complete sympathy with 
the work of independent scientific investigators of the sea and desirous 
of closer co-operation with University laboratories and _ biological 

During recent years one of the most important and most frequently 
discussed of applications of fisheries investigation has been the pro- 
ductivity of the trawling grounds, and especially those of the North 
Sea. It has been generally agreed that the enormous increase of fishing 
power during the last forty years or so has reduced the number of 
large plaice, so that the average size of that fish caught in our home 



waters has become smaller, although the total number of plaice landed 
had continued to increase up to the year of the outbreak of war. Since 
then, from 1914 to 1919, there has of necessity been what may be 
described as the most gigantic experiment ever seen in the closing of 
extensive fishing grounds. It is still too early to say with any certainty 
exactly what the results of that experiment have been, although some 
indications of an increase of the fish population in certain areas have 
been recorded. For example, the Danes, A. C. J ohansen and Kirstine 
Smith, find that large plaice landed in Denmark are now more abun- 
dant, and they attribute this to a reversal of the pre-war tendency, 
due to less intensive fishing. But Dr. James Johnstone has pointed out 
that there is some evidence of a natural periodicity in abundance of such 
fish and that the results noticed may represent phases in a cyclic change. 
If the periodicity noted in Liverpool Bay*® holds good for other 
grounds it will be necessary in.any comparison of pre-war and post- 
war statistics to take this natural variation in abundance into very 
careful consideration. 

In the application of oceanographic investigations to sea-fisheries 
problems, one ultimate aim, whether frankly admitted or not, must 
be to obtain some kind of a rough approximation to a census or valua- 
tion of the sea—of the fishes that form the food of man, of the lower 
animals of the sea-bottom on which many of the fishes feed, and of 
the planktonic contents of the upper waters which form the ultimate 
organised food of the sea—and many attempts have been made in 
different ways to attain the desired end. 

Our knowledge of the number of animals living in different regions 
of the sea is for the most part relative only. We know that one haul 
of the dredge is larger than another, or that one locality seems richer 
than another, but we have very little information as to the actual 
numbers of any kind of animal per square foot or per acre in the sea. 
Hensen, as we have seen, attempted to estimate the number of food- 
fishes in the North Sea from the number of their eggs caught im a 
comparatively small series of hauls of the tow-net, but the data were 
probably quite insufficient and the conclusions may be erroneous. It 
is an interesting speculation to which we cannot attach any economic 
importance. Heincke says of it: ‘This method appears theoretically 
feasible, but presents in practice so many serious difficulties that no 
positive results of real value have as yet been obtained.’ 

All biologists must agree that to determine even approximately the 
number of individuals of any particular species living in a known area 

is a contribution to knowledge which may be of great economic value 

26 See Johnstone, Report Lancs. Sea-Fish Lab; for 1917, p. 60; and Daniel, 
Report for 1919, p. 51. 


in the case of the edible fishes, but it may be doubted whether Hensen’s 
methods, even with greatly increased data, will ever give us the 
required information. Petersen’s method, of setting free marked plaice 
and then assuming that the proportion of these recaught is to the total 
number marked as the fishermen’s catch in the same district is to the 
total population, will only hold good in circumscribed areas where there 
is practically no migration and where the fish are fairly evenly dis- 
tributed. This method gives us what has been called ‘the fishing 
coefficient,’ and this has been estimated for the North Sea to have a 
probable value of about 0°33 for those sizes of fish which are caught by 
the trawl. Heincke,*’ from an actual examination of samples of the 
stock on the ground obtained by experimental trawling (‘ the catch 
coefficient ’), supplemented by the market returns of the various 
countries, estimates the adult plaice at about 1,500 millions, of which 
about 500 millions are caught or destroyed by the fishermen annually. 

It is difficult to imagine any further method which will enable us 
to estimate any such case as, say, the number of plaice in the North 
Sea where the individuals are so far beyond our direct observation and 
are liable to change their positions at any moment. But a beginning 
can be made on more accessible ground with more sedentary animals, 
and Dr. C. G. Joh. Petersen, of the Danish Biological Station, has 
for some years been pursuing the subject in a series of interesting 
Reports on the ‘ Evaluation of the Sea.’?* He uses a bottom-sampler, 
or grab, which can be lowered down open and then closed on the 
bottom so as to bring up a sample square foot or square metre (or in 
deep water one-tenth of a square metre) of the sand or mud and its 
inhabitants. With this apparatus, modified in size and weight for 
different depths and bottoms, Petersen and his fellow-workers have 
made a very thorough examination of the Danish waters, and especially 
of the Kattegat and the Limfjord, have described a series of ‘ animal 
communities ’ characteristic of different zones and regions of shallow 
water, and have arrived at certain numerical results as to the quantity 
of animals in the Kattegat expressed in tons—such as 5,000 tons of 
plaice requiring as food 50,000 tons of ‘ useful animals’ (mollusca and 
polychaet worms), and 25,000 tons of starfish using up 200,000 tons 
of useful animals which might otherwise serve as food for fishes, and 
the dependence of all these animals directly or indirectly upon the 
great beds of Zostera, which make up 24,000,000 tons in the Kattegat. 
Such estimates are obviously of great biological interest, and even if 
only rough approximations are a valuable contribution to our under- 

*7 F. Heincke, Oons. Per. Internat. Explor. de la Mer, ‘Investigations on 
the Plaice,’ Copenhagen, 1913. 

28 See Reports of the Danish Biological Station, and especially the Report 
for 1918 ‘ The Sea Bottom and its Production of Fish Food,’ E 


standing of the metabolism of the sea and of the possibility of increasing 
the yield of local fisheries. 
But on studying these Danish results in the light of what we know 
of our own marine fauna, although none of our seas have been examined 
in the same detail by the bottom-sampler method, it seems probable that 
the animal communities as defined by Petersen are not exactly applicable 
on our coasts and that the estimates of relative and absolute abundance 
may be very different in different seas under different conditions. The 
work will have to be done in each great area, such as the North Sea, the 
English Channel, and the Irish Sea, independently. This is a necessary 
_ investigation, both biological and physical, which lies before the oceano- 
graphers of the future, upon the results of which the future preservation 
and further cultivation of our national sea-fisheries may depend. 
: It has been shown by Johnstone and others that the common edible 
animals of the shore may exist in such abundance that an area of the 
sea may be more productive of food for man than a similar area of 
_ pasture or crops on land. A Lancashire mussel bed has been shown 
to have as many as 16,000 young mussels per square foot, and it is 
estimated that in the shallow waters of Liverpool Bay there are from 
twenty to 200 animals of sizes varying from an amphipod to a plaice 
on each square metre of the bottom.”* 
From these and similar data which can be readily obtained, it is 
not difficult to calculate totals by estimating the number of square 
_ yards in areas of similar character between tide-marks or in shallow 
water. And from weighings of samples some approximation to the 
number of tons of available food may be computed. But one must 
not go too far. Let all the figures be based upon actual observation. 
_ Imagination is necessary in science, but in calculating a population 
; of even a very limited area it is best to believe only what one can 
see and measure. 
Countings and weighings, however, do not give us all the informa- 
tion we need. It is something to know even approximately the number 
of millions of animals on a mile of shore and the number of millions 
of tons of possible food in a sea-area, but that is not sufficient. All 
food-fishes are not equally nourishing to man, and all plankton and 
bottom invertebrata are not equally nourishing to a fish. At this 
point the biologist requires the assistance of the physiologist and the 
bio-chemist. We want to know next the value of our food matters 
in proteids, carbohydrates, and fats, and the resulting calories. Dr. 
Johnstone, of the Oceanography Department of the University of 
Liverpool, has already shown us how markedly a fat summer herring 


29 Conditions of Life in the Sea, Cambridge Univ. Press. 1908. 


differs in essential constitution from the ordinary white fish, euck.; as 
the cod, which is almost destitute of fat. 

Professor Brandt, at Kiel, Professor Benjamin Moore, at Port 
Erin, and others have similarly shown that plankton gatherings may 
vary greatly in their nutrient value according as they are composed 
mainly of Diatoms, of Dinoflagellates, or of Copepoda. And, no doubt, 
the animals of the ‘ benthos,’ the common invertebrates of our shores, 
will show similar differences in analysis.*° It is obvious that some 
contain more solid flesh, others more water in their tissues, others 
more calcareous matter in the exoskeleton, and that therefore weight 
for weight we may be sure that some are more nutritious than the others ; 
and this is probably at least one cause of that preference we see in 
some of our bottom-feeding fish for certain kinds of food, such as 
polychaet worms, in which there is relatively little waste, and thin- 
shelled lamellibranch molluscs, such as young mussels, which have a 
highly nutrient body in a comparatively thin and brittle shell. 

My object in referring to these still incomplete investigations is to 
direct attention to what seems a natural and useful extension of faunistic 
work, for the purpose of obtaining some approximation to a quantitative 
estimate of the more important animals of our shores and shallow 
water and their relative values as either the immediate or the ultimate 
food of marketable fishes. 

Each such fish has its ‘ food-chain’ or series of alternative chains, 
leading back from the food of man to the invertebrates upon which it 
preys and then to the food of these, and so down to the smallest and 
simplest organisms in the sea, and each such chain must have all 
its links fully worked out as to seasonal and quantitative occurrence 
back to the Diatoms and Flagellates which depend upon physical con- 
ditions and take us beyond the range of biology—but not beyond that 
of oceanography. The Diatoms and the Flagellates are probably more 
important than the more obvious sea-weedg not only as food, but also 
in supplying to the water the oxygen necessary for the respiration 
of living protoplasm. Our object must be to estimate the rate of pro- 
duction and rate of destruction of all organic substances in the sea. 

To attain to an approximate census and valuation of the sea— 
remote though it may seem—is a great aim, but it is not sufficient. 
We want not only to observe and to count natural objects, but also 
to understand them. We require to know not merely what an organism 
is—in the fullest detail of structure and development and affinities— 

80 Moore and others have made analyses of the protein, fat, etc., in the soft 
parts of Sponge, Ascidian, Aplysia, Fusus, Echinus and Cancer at Port Erin, 
and find considerable differences—the protein ranging, for example, from 8 to 

51 per cent., and the fat from 2 to 14 per cent. (see Bio-Chemical Journ. vi. 
p. 291). 


and also where it occurs—again in full detail—and in what abundance 
under different circumstances, but also how it lives and what all its 
relations are to both its physical and its biological environment, and that 
is where the physiologist, and especially the bio-chemist, can help us. 
In the best interests of biological progress the day of the naturalist 
who merely collects, the day of the anatomist and histologist who 
merely describe, is over, and the future is with the observer and the 
experimenter animated by a divine curiosity to enter into the life 
of the organism and understand how it lives and moves and has its 
being. ‘ Happy indeed is he path has been able to discover the causes 
of things.’ 

Cardiff is a sea-port, and a great sea-port, and the Bristol Channel 
is a notable sea-fisheries centre of growing importance. The explorers 
and merchant venturers of the South-West of England are celebrated in 
history. What are you doing now in Cardiff to advance our knowledge 
of the ocean? You have here an important university centre and a 
great modern national museum, and either or both of these homes of 
research might do well to establish an oceanographical department, 
which would be an added glory to your city and of practical utility to 
the country. This is the obvious centre in Wales for a sea-fisheries 
institute for both research and education. Many important local move- 
ments have arisen from British Association meetings, and if such a 
notable scientific development were to result from the Cardiff meeting 
of 1920, all who value the advance of knowledge and the application of 
science to industry would applaud your enlightened action. 

But in a wider sense, it is not to the people of Cardiff alone that I 
appeal, but to the whole population of these Islands, a maritime people 
who owe everything to the sea. I urge them to become better informed 
in regard to our national sea-fisheries and take a more enlightened 
interest in the basal principles that underlie a rational regulation and 
exploitation of these important industries. National efficiency depends 
to a very great extent upon the degree in which scientific results and 
methods are appreciated by the people and scientific investigation is 
promoted by the Government and other administrative authorities. 
The principles and discoveries of science apply to aquiculture no less 
than to agriculture. To increase the harvest of the sea the fisheries 
must be continuously investigated, and such cultivation as is possible 
must be applied, and all this is clearly a natural application of the 
biological and hydrographical work now united under the science of 

1920 D 





Proressor A. 8. EDDINGTON, M.A., M.8c., F.B.S., 


The Internal Constitution of the Stars. 

Last year at Bournemouth we listened to a proposal from the President 
of the Association to bore a hole in the crust of the earth and discover 
the conditions deep down below the surface. This proposal may 
remind us that the most secret places of Nature are, perhaps, not 
10 to the n-th miles above our heads, but 10 miles below our feet. 
In the last five years the outward march of astronomical discovery has 
been rapid, and the most remote worlds are now scarcely safe from 
its inquisition. By the work of H. Shapley the globular clusters, which 
are found to be at distances scarcely dreamt of hitherto, have been 
explored, and our knowledge of them is in some respects more com- 
plete than that of the local aggregation of stars which includes the Sun. 
Distance lends not enchantment but precision to the view. Moreover, 
theoretical researches of Hinstein and Weyl make it probable that the 
space which remains beyond is not illimitable; not merely the 
material universe, but space itself, is perhaps finite; and the explorer 
must one day stay his conquering march for lack of fresh realms to 
invade. But to-day let us turn our thoughts inwards to that other 
region of mystery—a region cut off by more substantial barriers, for, 
contrary to many anticipations, even the discovery of the fourth 
dimension has not enabled us to get at the inside of a body. Science 
has material and non-material appliances to bore into the interior, and 
I have chosen to devote this address to what may be described as 
analytical boring devices—absit omen! 

The analytical appliance is delicate at present, and, I fear, would 
make little headway. against the solid crust of the earth. Instead of 
letting it blunt itself against the rocks, let us look round for something 
easier to penetrate. The Sun? Well, perhaps. Many have struggled 
to penetrate the mystery of the interior of the Sun; but the difficulties 
are great, for its substance is denser than water. It may not be quite 
so bad as Biron makes out in Love’s Labour’s Lost: — | 

The heaven’s glorious sun, 
That will not be deep-searched with saucy looks; 
Small have continual plodders ever won 
Save base authority from others’ books. 



But it is far better if we can deal with matter in that state. known 
as a perfect gas, which charms away difficulties as by magic... Where 
shall it be found? . is 

A few years ago we should have been puzzled to say where, except 
perhaps in certain nebula; but now it is known that abundant material 
of this kind awaits investigation. Stars in a truly gaseous state exist 
in great numbers, although at first sight they are scarcely to be dis- 
criminated from dense stars like our Sun. Not only so, but the 
gaseous stars are the most powerful light-givers, so that they force 
themselves on our attention. Many of the familiar stars are of this 
kind—Aldebaran, Canopus, Arcturus, Antares; and it would be safe 
to say that three-quarters of the naked-eye stars are in this diffuse 
state. This remarkable condition has been made known through the 
researches of H. N. Russell! and E. Hertzsprung; the which 
their conclusions, which ran counter to the prevailing thought of the 
time, have been substantiated on all sides by overwhelming evidence, 
is the outstanding feature of recent progress in stellar astronomy. _ 

The diffuse gaseous stars are called giants, and the dense stars are 
ealled dwarfs. During the life of a star there is presumably a gradual 
merease of density through contraction, so that these terms distinguish 
the earlier and later stages of stellar history.. It appears that a star 
begins its effective life as.a giant of comparatively low temperature— 
a red or M-type star. As this diffuse mass of gas contracts its tem- 
perature must rise, a conclusion long ago pointed out by Homer Lane. 
The rise continues until the star becomes too dense, and ceases to 
behave as a perfect gas. A maximum temperature is attained, depend- 
ing on the mass, after which the star, which has now become a dwarf, 
cools and further contracts. Thus each temperature-level is passed 
through twice, once in an ascending and once in a descending stage— 
once as a giant, once as a dwarf. ‘Temperature plays so predominant 
a part in the usual spectral classification that the ascending and 
descending stars were not originally discriminated, and the customary. 
classification led to some perplexities. The separation of the two series 
was discovered through their great difference in luminosity, particularly 
striking in the case of the red and yellow stars, where the two stages 
fall widely apart in the star’s history. The bloated giant has a far 
larger surface than the compact dwarf, and gives correspondingly 
greater light. The distinction was also revealed by direct determina- 
tions of stellar densities, which are possible in the case of. eclipsing 
variables like Algol. Finally, Adams and Kohlschiitter have set the 
seal on this discussion by showing that there are actual spectral differ- 
ences between the ascending and descending stars at the same tem- 
aie which are conspicuous enough—when they are looked 
‘Perhaps we should not too hastily assume that the direction of 

evolution is necessarily in the order of increasing density, in view of 

our ignorance of the origin of a star’s heat, to which I must allude 

later. But, at any rate, it is a great advance to have disentangled what 


! Nature, vol. 93, pp. 227, 252, 281. 


is the true order of continuous increase of density, which was hidden 
by superficial resemblances. 

The giant stars, representing the first half of a star’s life, are 
taken as material for our first boring experiment. Probably, measured 
in time, this stage corresponds to much less than half the life, for 
here it is the ascent which is easy and the way down is long and slow. 
Let us try to picture the conditions inside a giant star. We need not 
dwell on the vast dimensions—a mass like that of the Sun, but swollen 
to much greater volume on account of the low density, often below 
that of our own atmosphere. It is the star as a storehouse of heat 
which especially engages our attention. In the hot bodies familiar to 
us the heat consists in the energy of motion of the ultimate particles, 
flying at great speeds hither and thither. So too in the stars a great 
store of heat exists in this form; but a new feature arises. A large 
proportion, sometimes more than half the total heat, consists of 
imprisoned radiant energy—ether-waves travelling in all directions 
trying to break through the material which encages them. The star 
is like a sieve, which can only retain them temporarily ; they are turned 
aside, scattered, absorbed for a moment, and flung out again in a new 
direction. An element of energy may thread the maze for hundreds 
of years before it attains the freedom of outer space. Nevertheless the 
sieve leaks, and a steady stream permeates outwards, supplying the 
light and heat which the star radiates all round. 

That some ethereal heat as well as material heat exists in any hot 
body would naturally be admitted; but the point on which we have 
here to lay stress is that in the stars, particularly in the giant stars, 
the ethereal portion rises to an importance which quite transcends our 
ordinary experience, so that we are confronted with a new type of 
problem. In a red-hot mass of iron the ethereal energy constitutes 
less than a billionth part of the whole; but in the tussle between matter 
and ether the ether gains a larger and larger proportion of the energy 
as the temperature rises. This change in proportion is rapid, the 
ethereal energy increasing rigorously as the fourth power of the tem- 
perature, and the material energy roughly as the first power. But even 
at the temperature of some millions of degrees attained inside the stars 
there would still remain a great disproportion; and it is the low density 
of material, and accordingly reduced material energy per unit volume 
in the giant stars, which wipes out the last few powers of 10. In all 
the giant stars known to us, widely as they differ from one another, the 
conditions are just reached at which these two varieties of heat-energy 
have attained a rough equality; at any rate one cannot be neglected 
compared with the other. Theoretically there could be conditions in 
which the disproportion was reversed and the ethereal far out-weighed 
the material energy; but we do not find them in the stars. It is as 
though the stars had been measured out—that their sizes had been 
determined—with a view to this balance of power; and one cannot 
refrain from attributing to this condition a deep significance in the 
evolution of the cosmos into separate stars. 

To recapitulate. We are acquainted with heat in two forms—the 
energy of motion of material atoms and the energy of ether waves. In 

OE  ——— 


familiar hot bodies the second form exists only in insignificant quanti- 
ties. In the giant stars the two forms are present in more or less equal 
proportions. That is the new feature of the problem. 

On account of this new aspect of the problem the first attempts to 
penetrate the interior of a star are now seen to need correction. In 
saying this we do not depreciate the great importance of the early 
researches of Lane, Ritter, Emden, and others, which not only pointed 
the way for us to follow, but achieved conclusions of permanent value. 
One of the first questions they had to consider was by what means the 
heat radiated into space was brought up to the surface from the low 
level where it was stored. They imagined a bodily transfer of the hot 
material to the surface by currents of convection, as in our own 
atmosphere. But actually the problem is, not how the heat can be 
brought to the surface, but how the heat in the interior can be held 
back sufficiently—how it can be barred in and the leakage reduced to the 
comparatively small radiation emitted by the stars. Smaller bodies 
have to manufacture the radiant heat which they emit, living from 
hand to mouth; the giant stars merely leak radiant heat from their 
store. I have put that much too crudely; but perhaps it suggests the 
general idea. 

The recognition of ethereal energy necessitates a twofold modifi- 
cation in the calculations. In the first place, it abolishes the supposed 
convection currents; and the type of equilibrium is that known as 
radiative instead of convective. This change was first suggested by 
R. A. Sampson so long ago as 1894. The detailed theory of radiative 
equilibrium is particularly associated with K. Schwarzschild, who 
applied it to the Sun’s atmosphere. It is perhaps still uncertain whether 
it holds strictly for the atmospheric layers, but the arguments for its 
validity in the interior of a star are far more cogent. Secondly, the 
outflowing stream of ethereal energy is powerful enough to exert a 
direct mechanical effect on the equilibrium of a star. It is as though 
a strong wind were rushing outwards. In fact we may fairly say that 
the stream of radiant energy is a wind; for though ether waves are not 
usually classed as material, they have the chief mechanical properties 
of matter, viz. mass and momentum. This wind distends the star 
and relieves the pressure on the inner parts. The pressure on the gas 
in the interior is not the full weight of the superincumbent columns, 
because that weight is partially borne by the force of the escaping 
ether waves beating their way out. This force of radiation-pressure, 
as it is called, makes an important difference in the formulation of the 
conditions for equilibrium of a star. 

Having revised the theoretical investigations in accordance with 
these considerations,? we are in a position to deduce some definite 
numerical results. On the observational side we have fairly satis- 
factory knowledge of the masses and densities of the stars and of the 
total radiation emitted by them; this knowledge is partly individual and 
partly statistical. The theoretical analysis connects these observational 
data on the one hand with the physical properties of the material inside 

2 Astrophysical Journal, vol. 48, p. 205. 


the star on the other hand. We can thus find certain information as to 
the inner material, as though we had actually bored a hole. So far as 
can be judged there are only two physical properties of the material 
which can concern us—always provided that it is sufficiently rarefied 
to behave as a perfect gas—viz. the average molecular weight and 
the transparency or permeability to radiant energy. In connecting 
these two unknowns with the quantities given directly by astronomical 
observation we depend entirely on the well-tried principles of conserva- 
tion of momentum and the second law of thermodynamics. If any 
element of speculation remains in this method of investigation, I think 
it is no more than is inseparable from every kind of theoretical-advance. 

We have, then, on the one side the mass, density and output of 
heat, quantities as to which we have observational knowledge; on the 
other side, molecular weight and transparency, quantities which we 
want to discover. 

To find the transparency of stellar material to the radiation 
traversing it, is of particular interest because it links on this 
astronomical inquiry to physical investigations now being carried on in 
the laboratory, and to some extent it extends those investigations to 
conditions unattainable on the earth. At high temperatures the 
ether waves are mainly of very short wave-length, and in the stars we 
are dealing mainly with radiation of wave-length 3 to 30 Angstrém 
units, which might be described as very soft x-rays. It is interesting, 
therefore, to compare the results with the absorption of the harder 
a-rays dealt with by physicists. To obtain an exact measure of this 
absorption in the stars we have to assume a value of the molecular 
weight; but fortunately the extreme range possible for the molecular 
weight gives fairly narrow limits for the absorption. The average 
weight of the ultimate independent particles in a star is probably 
rather low, because in the conditions prevailing there the atoms would 
be strongly ionised; that is to say, many of the outer electrons of the 
system of the atom would be broken off; and as each of these free 
electrons counts as an independent molecule for the present purposes, 
this brings down the average weight. In the extreme case (probably 
not reached in a star) when the whole of the electrons outside the 
nucleus are detached the average weight comes down to about 2, 
whatever the material, because the number of electrons is about half 
the atomic weight for all the elements (except hydrogen). We may, 
then, safely take 2 as the extreme lower limit. For an upper limit we 
might perhaps take 200; but to avoid controversy we shall be generous 
and merely assume that the molecular weight is not greater than— 
infinity. Here is the result :— 

For molecular weight 2, mass-coefficient of absorption=10 

 ©.G.8. units. 

For molecular weight co , mass-coefficient of absorption =130 

C.G.§. units. 

The true value, then, must be between 10 and 130. Partly from 
thermodynamical considerations, and partly from further comparisons 
of astronomical observation with theory, the most likely value seems 
to be about 35 C.G.S. units, corresponding to molecular weight 3°5. 

Dll it i ee a 


Now this is of the same order of magnitude as the absorption of 
a@-rays measured in the laboratory. I think the result is in itself of 
some interest, that in such widely different investigations we should 
approach the same kind of value of the opacity of matter to radiation. 
The penetrating power of the radiation in the star is much like that of 
x-rays; more than half is absorbed in a path of 20 cms. at atmospheric 
density. Incidentally, this very high opacity explains why a star is so 
nearly heat tight, and can store vast supplies of heat with comparatively 
little leakage. 

So far this agrees with what might have been anticipated; but there 
is another conclusion which physicists would probably not have foreseen. 
The giant series comprises stars differing widely in their densities and 
temperatures, those at one end of the series being on the average 
about ten times hotter throughout than those at the other end. By 
the present investigation we can compare directly the opacity of the 
hottest stars with that of the coolest stars. The rather surprising 
result emerges that the opacity is the same for all; at any rate there 
is no difference large enough for us to detect. There seems no room 
for doubt that at these high temperatures the absorption-coefficient is 
approaching a limiting value, so that over a wide range it remains 
practically constant. With regard to this constancy, it is to be noted 
that the temperature is concerned twice over: it determines the character 
and wave-length of the radiation to be absorbed, as well as the physical 
condition of the material which is absorbing. From the experimental 
knowledge of x-rays we should have expected the absorption to vary 
very rapidly with the wave length, and therefore with the temperature. 
it is surprising, therefore, to find a nearly constant value. 

The result becomes a little less mysterious when we consider more 
closely the nature of absorption. Absorption is not a continuous 
process, and after an atom has absorbed its quantum it is put out of 
action for a ‘time until it can recover its original state. We know 
very little of what determines the rate of recovery of the atom, but it 
seems clear that there is a limit to the amount of absorption that can 
be performed by an atom in a given time. When that limit is reached 
no increase in the intensity of the incident radiation will lead to any 
more absorption. There is in fact a saturation effect. In the 
laboratory experiments the radiation used is extremely weak; the atom 
is practically never caught unprepared, and the absorption is propor- 
tional to the incident radiation. But in the stars the radiation is very 
intense and the saturation effect comes in. 

Even granting that the problem of absorption in the stars involves 
this saturation effect, which does not affect laboratory experiments, it 
is not very easy to understand theoretically how the various conditions 
combine to give a constant absorption-coefficient independent of tem- 
perature and wave-length. But the astronomical results seem con- 
clusive. Perhaps the most hopeful suggestion is one made to me a 
few years ago by C. G. Barkla. He suggested that the opacity of 
the stars may depend mainly on scattering rather than on true atomic 
absorption. In that case the constancy has a simple explanation, for 
it is known that the coefficient of scattering (unlike true absorption) 


approaches a definite constant value for radiation of short wave-length. 
The value, moreover, is independent of the material. Further, scat- 
tering is a continuous process, and there is no likelihood of any 
saturation effect; thus for very intense streams of radiation its value is 
maintained, whilst the true absorption may sink to comparative 
insignificance. The difficulty in this suggestion is a numerical dis- 
crepancy between the known theoretical scattering and the values 
already given as deduced from the stars. The theoretical coefficient 
is only 0°2 compared with the observed value 10 to 130. SBarkla further 
pointed out that the waves here concerned are not short enough to give 
the ideal coefficient ; they would be scattered more powerfully, because 
under their influence the electrons in any atom would all vibrate in the 
same phase instead of haphazard phases. This might help to bridge 
the gap, but not sufficiently. It must be remembered that many of the 
electrons have broken loose from the atom and do not contribute to the 
increase.* Making all allowances for uncertainties in the data, it seems 
clear that the astronomical opacity is definitely higher than the theoretical 
scattering. Very recently, however, a new possibility has opened up 
which may possibly effect a reconciliation. Later in the address I shall 
refer to it again. 

Astronomers must watch with deep interest the investigations of 
these short waves, which are being pursued in the laboratory, as well 
as the study of the conditions of ionisation both by experimental and 
theoretical physics, and I am glad of this opportunity of bringing before 
iheke who deal with these problems the astronomical bearing of their 

I can only allude very briefly to the purely astronomical results 
which follow from this investigation ;* it is here that the best oppor- 
tunity occurs for checking the theory by comparison with observation, 
and for finding out in what respects it may be deficient. Unfortunately, 
the observational data are generally not very precise, and the test is not 
so stringent as we could wish. It turns out that (the opacity being 
constant) the total radiation of a giant star should be a function of its 
mass only, independent of its temperature or state of diffuseness. The 
total radiation (which is measured roughly by the luminosity) of any 
one star thus remains constant during the whole giant stage of its 
history. This agrees with the fundamental feature, pointed out by 
Russell in introducing the giant and dwarf hypothesis, that giant stars 
of every spectral type have nearly the same luminosity. From the 
range of luminosity of these stars it is now possible to find their range 
of mass. The masses are remarkably alike—a fact already suggested 
by work on double stars. Limits of mass in the ratio 3: 1 would cover 
the great majority of the giant stars. Somewhat tentatively we are able 
to extend the investigation to dwarf stars, taking account of the 

3 E.g., for iron non-ionised the theoretical scattering is 5.2, against an 
astronomical value 120. If 16 electrons (2 rings) are broken off the theoretical 
coefficient is 0.9 against an astronomical value 35. For different assumptions 
as to ionisation the values chase one another, but cannot be brought within 
reasonable range. 

4 Monthly Notices, vol. 77, pp. 16, 596; vol. 79, p. 2. 


deviations of dense gas from the ideal laws and using our own Sun to 
supply a determination of the unknown constant involved. We can 
calculate the maximum temperature reached by different masses; for 
example, a star must have at least + the mass of the Sun in order to 
reach the lowest spectral type, M; and in order to reach the hottest 
type, B, it must be at least 24 times as massive as the Sun. Happily 
for the theory no star has yet been found with a mass less than 
4 of the Sun’s; and it is a well-known fact, discovered from the study 
_ of spectroscopic binaries, that the masses of the B stars are large com- 
_ pared with those of other types. Again, it is possible to calculate the 
_ difference of brightness of the giant and dwarf stars of type M, i.e. at 
the beginning and end of their career ; the result agrees closely with the 
observed difference. In the case of a class of variable stars in which 
the light changes seem to depend on a mechanical pulsation of the 
star, the knowledge we have obtained of the internal conditions enables 
us to predict the period of pulsation within narrow limits. For example, 
for 8 Cephei, the best-known star of this kind, the theoretical period 
is between 4 and 10 days, and the actual period is 53 days. Correspond- 
ing agreement is found in all the other cases tested. 

Our observational knowledge of the things here discussed is chiefly 

of a rather vague kind, and we can scarcely claim more than a general 
agreement of theory and observation. What we have been able to do 
in the way of tests is to offer the theory a considerable number of 
opportunities to ‘make a fool of itself,’ and so far it has not fallen 
into our traps. When the theory tells us that a star having the mass 
of the Sun will at one stage in its career reach a maximum effective 
temperature of 9,000° (the Sun’s effective temperature being 6,000°) 
we cannot do much in the way of checking it; but an erroneous theory 
might well have said that the maximum temperature was 20,000° (hotter 
than any known star), in which case we should have detected its error. 
Tf we cannot feel confident that the answers of the theory are true, it 
must be admitted that it has shown some discretion in lying without 
being found out. 
_ It would not be surprising if individual stars occasionally depart 
considerably from the calculated results, because at present no serious 
attempt has been made to take into account rotation, which may modify 
the conditions when sufficiently rapid. That appears to be the next 
step needed for a more exact study of the question. 

Probably the greatest need of stellar astronomy at the present day, 
in order to make sure that our theoretical deductions are starting on the 
right lines, is some means of measuring the apparent angular diameters 
ofstars. At present we can calculate them approximately from theory, 
but there is no observational check. We believe we know with fair 
accuracy the apparent surface brightness corresponding to each spectral 
type; then all that is necessary is to divide the total apparent brightness 
by this surface brightness, and the result is the angular area subtended 
by the star. The unknown distance is not involved, kecause surface 
brightness is independent of distance. Thus the estimation of the 
angular diameter of any star seems to be a very simple matter. For 
instance, the star with the greatest apparent diameter is almost certainly 



Betelgeuse, diameter 051”. Next to it comes Antares, 043”. Other 
examples are Aldebaran “022”, Arcturus “020”, Pollux 013”. Sirius 
comes rather low down with diameter 007”. The following table may 
be of interest as showing the angular diameters expected for stars of 
various types and visual magnitudes :— 

Probable Angular Diameters of Stars. 

Vis. Mag. | A | F | G | K | M 
eee | eS 
m. | iad | 7 | ” wt | mr 
0-0 - | -0034 | -0054 -0098 0219 -0859 
2-0 -0014 -0022 | -0039 -0087 | -0342 
| +0016 0035 «| +0136 

4-0 | “0005 0009 

However confidently we may believe in these values, it would be 
an immense advantage to have this first step in our deductions placed 
beyond doubt. If the direct measurement of these diameters could be 
made with any accuracy it would make a wonderfully rapid advance 
in our knowledge. The prospects of accomplishing some part of this 
task are now quite hopeful. We have learnt with great interest this 
year that work is being carried out by interferometer methods with the 
100-inch reflector at Mount Wilson, and the results are most promising, 
At present the method has only been applied to measuring the separation 
of close double stars, but there seems to be no doubt that an angular 
diameter of “05” is well within reach. Although the great mirror is 
used for convenience, the interferometer method does not in principle 
require great apertures, but rather two small apertures widely separated 
as in a range-finder. Prof. Hale has stated, moreover, that success- 
ful results were obtained on nights of poor seeing. Perhaps it would 
be unsafe to assume that ‘ poor seeing’ at Mount Wilson means quite 
the same thing as it does for us, and I anticipate that atmospheric 
disturbance will ultimately set the limit to what can be accomplished, 
But even if we have to send special expeditions to the top of one of the 
highest mountains in the world the attack on this far-reaching problem 
must not be allowed to languish. 

I spoke earlier of the radiation-pressure exerted by the outflowing 
heat, which has an important effect on the equilibrium of a star. It is 
quite easy to calculate what proportion of the weight of the material 
is supported in this way; it depends neither on the density nor opacity, 
but solely on the star’s total mass and on the molecular weight. No 
astronomical data are needed ; the calculation involves only fundamental 
physical constants found by laboratory researches. Here are the 
figures, first for average molecular weight 3:0 :— 

For mass } x Sun, fraction of weight supported by radiation- 
pressure = "044. 

For mass 5 x Sun, fraction of weight supported by radiation- 
pressure =°457. 

For molecular weight 5:0 the corresponding fractions are “182 and 




The molecular weight can scarcely go beyond this range,*» and 
for the conclusions [ am about to draw it does not much mattér which 
limit we take. Probably 90 per cent. of the giant stars have masses be- 
tween 4 and 5 times the Sun’s, and we see that this is just the range in 
which radiation-pressure rises from unimportance’ to importance. «It 
seems clear that a globe of gas of larger mass, in which radiation-pres- 
sure and gravitation are nearly balancing, would be likely to be unstable. 
The condition may not be strictly unstable in itself; but’a small rotation 
or perturbation would make it so. It may therefore be conjectured 
that, if nebulous material began to concentrate into a mass much greater 
than 5 times the Sun’s, it would probably break up, and continue to 
redivide until more stable masses resulted. Above the upper limit the 
chances of survival are small; when the lower limit is approached the 
danger has practically disappeared, and there is little likelihood of any 
further breaking-up. Thus the final masses are left distributed almost 
entirely between the limits given. To put the matter slightly differently, 
we are able to predict from general principles that the material of the 
stellar universe will aggregate primarily into. masses chiefly lying 
between 10°° and 10% grams; and this is just the magnitude of the 
masses of the stars according to astronomical observation.*® 

This study of the radiation and internal conditions of a star brings 
forward very pressingly a problem often debated in this Section: 
What is the source of the heat which the Sun and stars are continually 
squandering? The answer given is almost unanimous—that it is 
obtained from the gravitational energy converted as the star steadily 
contracts. But almost as unanimously this answer is ignored in its 
practical consequences. Lord Kelvin showed that this hypothesis, due 
to Helmholtz, necessarily dates the birth of the Sun about 20,000,000 
years ago; and he made strenuous efforts to induce geologists and 
biologists to accommodate their demands to this time-scale. I do not 
think they proved altogether tractable. But it is among his own col- 
leagues, physicists and astronomers, that the most outrageous violations 
of this limit have prevailed. I need only refer to Sir George Darwin’s 
theory of the earth-moon system, to the present Lord Rayleigh’s deter- 
mination of the age of terrestrial rocks from occluded helium, and to all 
modern discussions of the statistical equilibrium of the stellar system. 
No one seems to have any hesitation, if it suits him, in carrying back 
the history of the earth long before the supposed date of formation 
of the solar system ; and in some cases at least this appears to be justified 

> As an illustration of these limits, iron has 26 outer electrons ; if 10 break 
away the average molecular weight is 5; if 18 break away the molecular weight 
is 3. Eggert (Phys. Zeits. 1919, p. 570) has suggested by thermodynamical] 
reasoning that in most cases the two outer rings (16 electrons) would break away 
in the stars. The comparison of theory and observation for the dwarf stars 
also points to a molecular weight a little greater than 3. 

6 By admitting plausible assumptions closer limits could be drawn. Taking 
the molecular weight as 3.5, and assuming that the most critical, condition is 
when 4 of gravitation is counterbalanced (by analogy with the case of rotating 
spheroids, in which centrifugal force opposes gravitation and creates instability), 
we find that the critical mass is just twice that of the Sun, and stellar masses 
may be expected to cluster closely round this value, 


by experimental evidence which it is difficult to dispute. Lord Kelvin’s 
date of the creation of the Sun is treated with no more respect than 
Archbishop Ussher’s. 

The serious consequences of this contraction hypothesis are particu- 
larly prominent in the case of giant stars, for the giants are prodigal 
with their heat and radiate at least a hundred times as fast as the 
Sun. The supply of energy which suffices to maintain the Sun for 
10,000,000 years would be squandered by a giant star in less than 
100,000 years. The whole evolution in the giant stage would have to 
be very rapid. In 18,000 years at the most a typical star must pass 
from the initial M stage totype G. In 80,000 years it has reached type 
A, near the top of the scale, and is about to start on the downward 
path. Even these figures are probably very much over-estimated.’ 
Most of the naked-eye stars are still in the giant stage. Dare we 
believe that they were all formed within the last 80,000 years? The 
telescope reveals to us objects not only remote in distance but remote 
in time. We can turn it on a globular cluster and behold what was 
passing 20,000, 50,000, even 200,000 years ago—unfortunately not all 
in the same cluster, but different clusters representing different epochs 
of the past. As Shapley has pointed out, the verdict appears to be 
‘nochange.’ This is perhaps not conclusive, because it does not follow 
that individual stars have suffered no change in the interval; but it is 
difficult to resist the impression that the evolution of the stellar universe 
proceeds at a slow, majestic pace, with respect to which these periods of 
time are insignificant. 

There is another line of astronomical evidence which appears to 
show more definitely that the evolution of the stars proceeds far more 
slowly than the contraction hypothesis allows ; and perhaps it may ulti- 
mately enable us to measure the true rate of progress. There are 
certain stars, known as Cepheid variables, which undergo a regular 
fluctuation of light of a characteristic kind, generally with a period of a 
few days. This light change is not due to eclipse. Moreover, the 
colour quality of the light changes between maximum and minimum, 
evidently pointing to a periodic change in the physical condition of the 
star. Although these objects were formerly thought to be double 
stars, it now seems clear that this was a misinterpretation of the 
spectroscopic evidence. There is in fact no room for the hypothetical 
companion star; the orbit is so small that we should have to place it 
inside the principal star. Everything points to the period of the light 
pulsation being something intrinsic in the star; and the hypothesis 
advocated by Shapley, that it represents a mechanical pulsation of the 
star, seems to be the most plausible. I have already mentioned that the 
observed period does in fact agree with the calculated period of 
mechanical pulsation, so that the pulsation explanation survives one 
fairly stringent test. But whatever the cause of the variability, 
whether pulsation or rotation, provided only that it is intrinsic in the 

7 I have taken the ratio of specific heats at the extreme possible value, $; 
that is to say, no allowance has been made for the energy needed for ionisa- 
tion and internal vibrations of the atoms, which makes a further call on the 
scanty supply available. 

EE — a 


star, and not forced from outside, the density must be the leading factor 
in determining the period. If the star is contracting so that its density 
changes appreciably, the period cannot remain constant. Now, on the 
contraction hypothesis the change of density must amount to at least 
1 per cent. in 40 years. (I give the figures for § Cephei, the best- 
known variable of this class.) The corresponding change of period 
should be very easily detectable. For 6 Cephei the period ought to 
decrease 40 seconds annually. 

Now & Cephei has been under careful observation since 1785, and 
it is known that the change of period, if any, must be very small. 
S. Chandler found a decrease of period of 4, second per annum, and in a 
recent investigation E. Hertzsprung has found a decrease of #4, second 
perannum. The evidence that there is any decrease at all rests almost 
entirely on the earliest observations made before 1800, so that it is not 
very certain; but in any case the evolution is proceeding at not more 
than 33, of the rate required by the contraction hypothesis. There 
must at this stage of the evolution of the star be some other source 
of energy which prolongs the life of the star 400-fold. The time-scale 
so enlarged would suffice for practically all reasonable demands. 

I hope the dilemma is plain. Hither we must admit that whilst the 
density changes 1 per cent. a certain period intrinsic in the star can 
change no more than z3, of 1 per cent., or we must give up the con- 
traction hypothesis. 

If the contraction theory were proposed to-day as a novel hypothesis 
IT do not think it would stand the smallest chance of acceptance. From all 
sides—biology, geology, physics, astronomy—it would be objected that 
the suggested source of energy was hopelessly inadequate to provide the 
heat spent during the necessary time of evolution; and, so far as it is 
possible to interpret observational evidence confidently, the theory would 
be held to be definitely negatived. Only the inertia of tradition keeps 
the contraction hypothesis alive—or rather, not alive, but an unburied 
corpse. But if we decide to inter the corpse, let us frankly recognise 
the position in which we are left. A star is drawing on some vast 
reservoir of energy by means unknown to us. This reservoir can 
scarcely be other than the sub-atomic energy which, it is known, exists 
abundantly in all matter; we sometimes dream that man will one day 
learn how to release it and use it for his service. The store is well-nigh 
inexhaustible, if only it could be tapped. There is sufficient in the Sun 
to maintain its output of heat for 15 billion years. 

Certain physical investigations in the past year, which I hope we 
may hear about at this meeting, make it probable to my mind that some 
portion of this sub-atomic energy is actually being set free in the stars. 
F. W. Aston’s experiments seem to leave no room for doubt that all the 
elements are constituted out of hydrogen atoms bound together with 
negative electrons. The nucleus of the helium atom, for example, 
consists of 4 hydrogen atoms bound with 2 electrons. But Aston has 
further shown conclusively that the mass of the helium atom is less 
than the sum of the masses of the 4 hydrogen atoms which enter into 
it; and in this at any rate the chemists agree with him. There is a 
loss of mass in the synthesis amounting to about 1 part in 120, the. 


atomic weight of hydrogen being 1008 and that of helium just 4. I 
will riot dwell on his beautiful proof of this, will no doubt be 
able to hear it from himself. Now mass cannot be annihilated, and the 
deficit can only represent the mass of the electrical energy set free in 
the transmutation. We can therefore at once calculate the quantity of 
energy liberated when helium is made out of hydrogen. If 5 per cent. 
of a star’s mass consists initially of hydrogen atoms, which are gradually 
being combined to form more complex elements, the total heat liberated 
will more than suffice for our demands, and we need look no further 
for the source of a star’s energy. 

But is it possible to admit that such a transmutation is occurring? 
It is difficult to assert, but perhaps more difficult to deny, that this is 
going on. Sir Ernest Rutherford has recently been breaking down the 
atoms of oxygen and nitrogen, driving out an isotope of helium from 
them ; and what is possible in the Cavendish laboratory may not be 
too difficult in the Sun. I think that the suspicion has been generally 
entertained that the stars are the crucibles in which the lighter atoms 
which abound in the nebule are compounded into more complex 
elements. In the stars matter has its preliminary brewing to prepare 
the greater variety of elements which are needed for a world of life. 
The radio-active elements must have been formed at no very distant 
date; and their synthesis, unlike the generation of helium from 
hydrogen, is endothermic. If combinations requiring the addition of 
energy can occur in the stars, combinations which liberate energy ought 
not to be impossible. 

We need not bind ourselves to the formation of helium from 
hydrogen as the sole reaction which supplies the energy, although it 
would seem that the further stages in building up the elements involve 
much less liberation, and sometimes even absorption, of energy. It is 
@ question of accurate measurement of the deviations of atomic weights 
from integers, and up to the present hydrogen is the only element for 
which Mr. Aston has been able to detect the deviation. No doubt we 
shall learn more about the possibilities in due time. The position may 
be summarised in these terms: the atoms of all elements are built of 
hydrogen atoms bound together, and presumably have at one time been 
formed from hydrogen; the interior of a star seems as likely a place 
as any for the evolution to have occurred ; whenever it did occur a great 
amount of energy must have been set free; in a star a vast quantity 
of energy is being set free which is hitherto unaccounted for. You 
may draw ‘a conclusion if you like. 

lf, indeed, the sub-atomic energy in the stars is being freely used 
to maintain their great furnaces, it seems to bring a little nearer to 
fulfilment our dream of controlling this latent power for the well-being 
of the human race—or for its suicide. 

So far as the immediate needs of astronomy are concerned, it is 
not of any great consequence whether in this suggestion-we have actually 
laid a finger on the true source of the heat. It is sufficient if the 
discussion opens’ our eyes to the wider possibilities: We can get rid 
of the obsession that there is no other conceivable supply besides con- 
traction, buf we need not again cramp ourselves by adopting prematurely 

iit ni 


what is perhaps a still wilder guess. Rather we should admit that the 
source is not certainly known, and seek for any possible astronomical 
evidence which may help to define its necessary character. One piece 
of evidence of this kind may be worth mentioning. It seems clear that 
it must be the high temperature inside the stars which determines the 
liberation of energy, as H. N. Russell has pointed out.® If so the 
supply may come mainly from the hottest region at the centre. I have 
already stated that the general uniformity of the opacity of the stars 
is much more easily intelligible if it depends on scattering rather than 
on true absorption ; but it did not seem possible to reconcile the deduced 
stellar opacity with the theoretical scattering coefficient. | Within 
reasonable limits it makes no great difference in our calculations at what 
parts of the star the heat energy is supplied, and it was assumed that 

it comes more or less evenly from all parts, as would be the case on 
_ the contraction theory. The possibility was scarcely contemplated that 

the energy is supplied entirely in a restricted region round the centre. 
Now, the more concentrated the supply, the lower is the opacity requisite 
to account for the observed radiation. I have not made any detailed 
calculations, but it seems possible that for a sufficiently concentrated 
source the deduced and the theoretical coefficients could be made to 
agree, and there does not seem to be any other way of accomplishing 
this. Conversely, we might perhaps argue that the present discrepancy 
of the coefficients shows that the energy supply is not spread out in the 
way required by the contraction hypothesis, but belongs to some new 
source only available at the hottest, central part of the star. 

I should not be surprised if it is whispered that this address has at 
times verged on being a little bit speculative; perhaps some outspoken 
friend may bluntly say that it has been highly speculative from 
begimning to end. I wonder what is the touchstone by which we may 
test the legitimate development of scientific theory and reject the idly 
speculative. We all know of theories which the scientific mind in- 
stinctively rejects as fruitless guesses; but it is difficult to specify their 
exact defect or to supply a rule which will show us when we ourselves 
do err. It is often supposed that to speculate and to make hypotheses 
are the same thing; but more often they are opposed. It is when we 
let our thoughts stray outside venerable, but sometimes insecure, 
hypotheses that we are said to speculate. Hypothesis limits speculation. 
Moreover, distrust of speculation often serves as a cover for loose 
thinking ; wild ideas take anchorage in our minds and influence our out- 

look; whilst it is considered too speculative to subject them to the 
scientific scrutiny which would exorcise them. 


If we are not content with the dull accumulation of experimental 
facts, if we make any deductions or generalisations, if we seek for any 
theory to guide us, some degree of speculation cannot be avoided. Some 
will prefer to take the interpretation which seems to be most imme- 
diately indicated and at once adopt that as an hypothesis; others will 
rather seek to explore and classify the widest possibilities which are 
not definitely inconsistent with the facts. Hither choice has its dangers ; 

8 Pub. Act. Soc. Pacific. August 1919. 


the first may be too narrow a view and lead progress into a cul-de-sac ; 
the second may be so broad that it is useless as a guide, and diverges 
indefinitely from experimental knowledge. When this last case 
happens, it must be concluded that the knowledge is not yet ripe for 
theoretical treatment and speculation is premature. The time when 
speculative theory and observational research may profitably go hand 
in hand is when the possibilities, or at any rate the probabilities, can 
be narrowed down by experiment, and the theory can indicate 
the tests by which the remaining wrong paths may be blocked up one 
by one. 

f The mathematical physicist is in a position of peculiar difficulty. 
He may work out the behaviour of an ideal model of material with 
specifically defined properties, obeying mathematically exact laws, and 
so far his work is unimpeachable. It is no more speculative than 
the binomial theorem. But when he claims a serious interest for 
his toy, when he suggests that his model is like something going on in 
Nature, he inevitably begins to speculate. Is the actual body really 
like the ideal model? May not other unknown conditions intervene? 
He cannot be sure, but he cannot suppress the comparison; for it is by 
looking continually to Nature that he is guided in his choice of a sub- 
ject. A common fault, to which he must often plead guilty, is to use 
for the comparison data over which the more experienced observer 
shakes his head; they are too insecure to build extensively upon. Yet 
even in this, theory may help observation by showing the kind of data 
which it is especially important to improve. 

I think that the more idle kinds of speculation will be avoided if 
the investigation is conducted from the right point of view, When the 
properties of an ideal model have been worked out by rigorous mathe- 
matics, all the underlying assumptions being clearly understood, then 
it becomes possible to say that such and such properties and laws lead 
precisely to such and such effects. If any other disregarded factors 
are present, they should now betray themselves when a comparison is 
made with Nature. There is no need for disappointment at the failure 
of the model to give perfect agreement with observation; it has served 
its purpose, for it has distinguished what are the features of the actual 
phenomena which require new conditions for their explanation. A 
general preliminary agreement with observation is necessary, otherwise 
the model is hopeless ; not that it is necessarily wrong so far as it goes, 
but it has evidently put the less essential properties foremost. We 
have been pulling at the wrong end of the tangle, which has te be un- 
ravelled by a different approach. But after a general agreement with 
observation is established, and the tangle begins to loosen, we should 
always make ready for the next knot. I suppose that the applied 
mathematician whose theory has just passed one still more stringent test 
by observation ought not to feel satisfaction, but rather disappointment 
—‘ Foiled again! This time I had hoped to find a discordance which 
would throw light on the points where my model could be improved.’ 
Perhaps that is a counsel of perfection; I own that I have never felt 
very keenly a disappointment of this kind. 

Our model of Nature should not be like a building—a handsome 


structure for the populace to admire, until in the course of time someone 
takes away a corner-stone and the edifice comes toppling down. It 
should be like an engine with movable parts. We need not fix the 
position of any one lever; that is to be adjusted from time to time as 
the latest observations indicate. The aim of the theorist is to know 
the train of wheels which the lever sets in motion—that binding of the 
parts which is the soul of the engine. 

In ancient days two aviators procured to themselves wings. 
Deedalus flew safely through the middle air across the sea, and was duly 
honoured on his landing. Young Icarus soared upwards towards the 
Sun till the wax melted which bound his wings, and his flight ended 
in fiasco. In weighing their achievements perhaps there is something 
to be said for Icarus. The classic authorities tell us that he was only 
‘ doing a stunt,’ but I prefer to think of him as the man who certainly 
brought to light a constructional defect in the flying-machines of his 
day. So too in science... Cautious Dedalus will apply his theories 
where he feels most confident they will safely go; but by his excess of 
caution their hidden weaknesses cannot be brought to light. Icarus 
will strain his theories to the breaking-point till the weak joints gape. 
For a spectacular stunt? Perhaps partly; he is often very human. 
But if he is not yet destined to reach the Sun and solve for all time the 
riddle of its constitution, yet he may hope to learn from his journey 
some hints to build a better machine. 

1920 z 






C. T. HEYCOCK, M.A., F.B.S., 

During its past eighty-nine years of useful life the British Association 
has, in the course of its evolution, established certain traditions ; among 
these is the expectation that the sectional President shall deliver an 
address containing a summary of that branch of natural knowledge with 
which he has become especially acquainted. 

The rapid accumulation of experimental observations during the 
last century, and the consequent necessity for classifying the observed 
facts with the aid of hypotheses and theories of ever-increasing com- 
plexity, make such summaries of knowledge essential, not only to the 
student of science, but also to the person of non-specialised education 
who desires to realise something of the tendencies and of the results 
of modern science. 

At the present moment, when the whole world is in pause after 
having overcome the greatest peril which has ever threatened civilisa- 
tion; when all productive effort, social, artistic, and scientific, is under- 
going reorganisation preparatory to an advance which will eclipse in 
importance the progress made during the nineteenth century, such 
attempts to visualise the present condition of knowledge as are made 
in our Presidential Addresses are of particular value. It is, therefore, 
hardly necessary for me to apologise for an endeavour to place before 
you a statement upon the particular branch of science to which I have 
myself paid special attention; whatever faults may attend the mode 
of presentation, such a survey of a specific field of knowledge cannot 
but be of value to some amongst us. 

I propose to deal to-day with the manner in which our present rather 
detailed knowledge of metallic alloys has been acquired, starting from 
the sparse information which was available thirty or forty years ago; 


to show the pitfalls which have been avoided in the theoretical inter- 
pretation of the observed facts, and to sketch very briefly the present 
position of our knowledge. 

The production of metals and their alloys undoubtedly constitutes 
the oldest of those chemical arts which ultimately expanded into the 
modern science of chemistry, with all its overwhelming mass of experi- 
mental detail and its intricate interweaving of theoretical interpretation 
of the observed facts. Tubal-Cain lived during the lifetime of our 
common ancestor, and was ‘an instructor of every artificer in brass 
and iron’; and although it may be doubted whether the philologists 
have yet satisfactorily determined whether Tubal-Cain was really 
acquainted with the manufacture of such a complex metallic alloy as 
brass, it is certain that chemical science had its beginnings in the 
reduction of metals from their ores and in the preparation of useful 
alloys from those metals. In fact, metallic alloys, or mixtures of 
metals, have been used by mankind for the manufacture of implements 
of war and of agriculture, of coiage, statuary, cooking vessels, and the 
like from the very earliest times. 

In the course of past ages an immense amount of practical informa- 
tion has been accumulated concerning methods of reducing metals, or 
mixtures of metals, from their ores, and by subsequent treatment, 
usually by heating and cooling, of adapting the resulting metallic 
product to the purpose for which it was required. Until quite recent 
times, however, the whole of this knowledge was entirely empirical 
in character, because it had no foundation in general theoretical prin- 
ciples ; it was collected in haphazard fashion in accordance with that 
method of trial and error which led our forerunners surely, but with 
excessive expenditure of time and effort, to valuable results. 

To-day I purpose dealing chiefly with the non-ferrous alloys, not 
because any essential difference in type exists between the ferrous and 
non-ferrous alloys, but merely because the whole field presented by the 
chemistry of the metals and their alloys is too vast to be covered in 
any reasonable length of time. 

_ The earliest recorded scientific investigations on alloys were made 
in 1722 by Reaumur, who employed the microscope to examine the 
fractured surfaces of white and grey cast iron and steel. 

In 1808 Widmanstatten cut sections from meteorites, which he 
polished and etched. 

The founder, however, of modern metallography is undoubtedly 
H. C. Sorby, of Sheffield. Sorby’s early petrographic work on the 
examination of thin sections of rock under the microscope led him to 
a study of meteorites and of iron and steel, and in a paper read before 
the British Association in 1864 he describes briefly (I quote his own 
words) how sections ‘of iron and steel may be prepared for the 
microscope so as to exhibit their structure to a perfection that leaves 
little to be desired. They show various mixtures of iron, and two 
or three well-defined compounds of iron and carbon, graphite, and 
slag; these constituents being present in different proportions and 
arranged in various manners, give rise to a large number of varieties 
of iron and steel, differing by well-marked and very striking peculiarities 




of structure.’ The methods described by Sorby for polishing and 
etching alloys and his method of vertical illumination (afterwards 
improved by Beck) are employed to-day by all who work at this branch 
of metallography. 

The lantern-slides, now shown, were reproduced from his original 
photographs; they form a lasting memorial to his skill as an investi- 
gator.and his ability as a manipulator. In 1887 Dr. Sorby published 
a paper on the microscopical structure of iron and steel in the Journal 
of the Iron and Steel Institute. This masterpiece of clear writing 
and expression, even with our present knowledge, needs but little 
emendation. In this paper he describes Free Iron (ferrite) carbon as 
graphite, the pearly constituent as a very fine laminar structure (pearlitic 
structure), combined iron as the chief constituent of white cast iron 
(cementite), slag inclusions, effect of tempering steel, effect of working 
iron and steel, cementation of wrought iron, and the decarbonisation 
of cast iron by haematite. A truly remarkable achievement for one 

From 1854-68 Mattheisen published in the Reports of the British 
Association and in the Proceedings and Transactions of the Royal 
Society, a large number of papers on the electrical conductivity, 
tenacity, and specific gravity of pure metals and alloys. He concluded 
that alloys are either mixtures of definite chemical compounds with an 
excess of one or other metal, or solutions of the definite alloy in the 
excess of one of the metals employed, forming, in their solid condition, 
what he called a solidified solution. This idea of a solidified solution 
has developed into a most fruitful theory upon which much of our 
modern notions of alloys depends. Although, at the time, the experi- 
ments on the electrical conductivity did not lead to very definite con- 
clusions, the method has since been used with great success in testing 
for the presence of minute quantities of impurities in the copper used 
for conductors. 

In the Philosophical Magazine for 1875, F. Guthrie, in a 
remarkable paper, quite unconnected with alloys, gave an account of 
his experiments on salt solutions and attached water. He was led to 
undertake this work by a consideration of a paper by Dr. J. Rea, the 
Arctic explorer, on the comparative saltness of freshly formed and of 
older ice floes. Guthrie showed that the freezing-point of solutions was 
continuously diminished as the percentage of common salt increased, 
and that this lowering increased up to 23.6 per cent. of salt, when the 
solution’ solidified as a whole at about 229 C. He further showed, 
and this is of great importance, that the substance which first separated 
from solutions more dilute than 23.6 was pure ice. To the substance 
which froze as a whole, giving crystals of the same composition as the 
mother liquor, he gave the name cryohydrate. At the time he thought 
that the cryohydrate of salt containing 23.6 per cent. NaCl and 76.4 per 
cent. of water was a chemical compound 2NaCl.21H,0. In suc- 
ceeding years he showed that a large number of other salts gave solu- 
tions which behaved in a similar manner to common salt. He 
abandoned the idea that the cryohydrates were chemical compounds. 

How clear his views were will be seen by quotations from his 


paper in the Phil. Mag. (5) 1. and II., 1876, in which he states: 
(i.) When a@ solution weaker than the cryohydrate loses heat, ice is 
formed. (ii.) Ice continues to form and the temperature to fall until’ 
the cryohydrate is reached. (iii.) At’the point of saturation ice and: 
salt separate simultaneously and the solid and liquid portions are 
identical in composition. ins 

These results can be expressed in the form of a simple diagram as’ 
shown in the slide. 

In a subsequent paper, Phil. 'Mag. (5) 17, he extends his experi- , 
ments to solvents other than water,, and states that the substances 
which separate at the lowest temperature are neither atomic nor mole- 
cular; this lowest melting-point mixture of two bodies he names the: 
eutectic mixture. In the same paper he details the methods of obtain- 
ing various eutectic alloys of bismuth, lead, tin, and cadmium. 

We have, in these papers of Guthrie’s, the first important clue to 
what occurs on cooling a fused mixture of metals. The researches of - 
Sorby and Guthrie, undertaken as they were for the sake of investigat- 
ing natural phenomena, are a remarkable example of how purely 
scientific experiment can lead to most important practical results. It is 
not too much to claim for these investigators the honour of being the 
originators of all our modern ideas of metallurgy. Although much 
valuable information had been accumulated, no rapid advance could be 
made until some general theory of solution had been developed. In 
1878 Raoult first began his work on the depression of the freezing- 
point of solvents due to the addition of dissolved substances, and he 
continued, at frequent intervals, to publish the results of his experi- 
ments up to the time of his death in 1901. He established for organic’ 
solvents certain general laws: (i.) that for moderate concentrations the: 
fall of the freezing-point is proportional to the weight of the dissolved 
substance present in a constant weight of solvent; (ii.) that when the 
falls produced in the same solvent by different dissolved substances are 
compared, it is found that a molecular weight of a dissolved substance 
produces the same fall of the freezing-point, whatever the substance is. 
When, however, he applied the general laws which he had established 
for organic solvents to aqueous solutions of inorganic acids, bases, and 
salts, the results obtained were hopelessly discrepant. In a paper in 
the Zeit. Physikal. Chem. for 1888 on ‘Osmotic Pressure in the 
analogy between solutions and gases,’ Van’t Hoff showed that the 
experiments of Pfeffer on osmotic pressure could be explained on 
the theory that dissolved substances were, at any rate for dilute solu- 
tions, in a condition similar to that of a gas; that they obeyed the laws 
of Boyle, Charles, and Avogadro, and that on this assumption the: 
depression of the freezing-point of a solvent could be calculated by 
means of a simple formula. He also showed that the exceptions which 
occurred to Raoult’s laws, when applied to aqueous solutions of 
electrolytes, could’ be explained by the assumption, first made by 
Arrhénius, that’ these latter in solution are partly dissociated into their 
ions. The result of all this work was to establish a general theory 
applicable to all solutions which has been widespread in its appli- . 
eations. It is true that Van’t Hoff’s theory has been violently attacked ; . 


but it enables us to calculate the depression of the freezing-points of a 
large number of solvents. To do this it is necessary to know the latent 
heat of fusion of the pure solvent and the absolute temperature of the 
freezing-point of the solution. That the numbers calculated are in very 
close accord with the experimental values constitutes a strong argu- 
ment in favour of the theory. From this time the study of alloys 
began to make rapid progress. Laurie (Chem. Soc. Jour. 1888), by 
measuring the potential difference of voltaic cells composed of plates 
of alloy and the more negative element immersed in a solution of a salt 
of one of the component metals, obtained evidence of the existence 
of compounds such as CuZn,.Cu,Sn. In 1889 F. H. Neville and I, 
whilst repeating Raoult’s experiments on the lowering of the freezing- 
point of organic solvents, thought that it was possible that the well- 
‘known fact that alloys often freeze at a lower temperature than either 
of their constituents might be explained in a similar way. In a pre- 
Jiminary note communicated to the Chemical Society on March 21, 
1889, on the same evening that Professor Ramsay read his paper on the 
molecular weights of metals as determined by the depression of the 
vapour pressure, we showed that the fall produced in the freezing- 
point of tin by dissolving metals in it was for dilute solutions directly 
proportional to the concentration. We also showed that the fall pro- 
duced in the freezing-point of tin by the solution of one atomic weight 
of metal in 100 atomic weights of tin was a constant. 

G. Tannman about the same time (Zeit. Physikal. Chemie, III., 44, 
1889) arrived at a similar conclusion, using mercury as a solvent. 

These experiments helped to establish the similarity between the 
behaviour of metallic solutions or alloys and that. of aqueous and other 
solutions of organic compounds in organic solvents. That our experi- 
ments were correct seemed probable from the agreement between the 
observed depression of the freezing-point and the value calculated from 
Van’t Hoff’s formula for the case of those few metals whose latent 
heats of fusion had been determined with any approach to accuracy. 

Our experiments, subsequently extended to other solvents, led to 
the conclusion that in the case of most metals dissolved in tin the 
molecular weight is identical with the atomic weight; in other words, 
that the metals in solution are monatomic. This conclusion, however, 
involves certain assumptions. Prof. Ramsay’s experiments on the 
lowering of the vapour pressure of certain amalgams point to a similar 

So far our work had been carried out with mercury thermometers, 
standardised against a platinum resistance pyrometer, but it was evident 
that, if it was to be continued, we must have some method of extend- 
ing our experiments to alloys which freéze at high temperatures. The 
thermo couple was not at this stage a reliable instrument; fortunately, 

however, Callendar and Griffiths had brought to great perfection the 
electrical resistance pyrometer (Phil. Trans. A, 1887 and 1891). Dr. 
BE. H. Griffiths kindly came to our aid, and with his help we installed 
a complete electrical resistance set. As at this time the freezing-points 
of pure substances above 300° were not known with any degree of 
accuracy, we began by making these measurements :— 



Table of Freezing-poimts. 

| { Burgess & 
‘Camenty’s| Holborn | Callendar | Neville Berek 
— Tables | & Wien, & Griffiths, & Heycock,| 11,7) mn, 
| 1892 1892 | 1895 Be OP 
| Measure- 
és iodyesy tn ask joa | ments 
Tm , 3 5 —_ — 231-7 | -231°9 231°9 
Zine . q - ~~ 433 — 4176 | 419°0 419°4 
Lead . A - “ — _ — 327°6 327°4 
Antimony. .  . | 432 — | ~~ | 6295 | 630-7 & 
| | | | | 629-2 
Magnesium. 3 . oo Se 1632°6 650 
| Aluminium il 700 —_— : _ *654'5 658 
Silver : 4 af 954 968 | 972 960°7 960°9 
Gold . $ . | 1,045 1,072 1,037 1,061°7 1,062°4 
Copper .  .  .| 1,054 1,082 ie, 1,080°3 | 1,083 
| SulphurB.P. .  . | 448 — | 44453 is 444-7 
' Contaminated with silicon. 2 Known to be impure. 

With the exception of silver and gold, these metals were the purest 
obtainable in commerce. 

Two facts are evident from the consideration of this table: (a) the 
remarkable accuracy of Callendar’s formula connecting the Tempera- 
ture Centigrade with the change of resistance of a pure platinum wire ; 
(b) the accuracy of Callendar and Griffiths’ determination of the boiling- 
point of sulphur. Although the platinum resistance pyrometer had at 
this time only been compared with the air thermometer up to 600° C., 
ib will be noted that the exterpolation from 600° to nearly 1,100 was 

I cannot leave the subject of high-temperature measurements with- 
out referring to the specially valuable work of Burgess, and also to 
Eza Griffiths’ book on high-temperature measurements, which contains 
an excellent summary of the present state of our knowledge of this 
important subject. 

During the period that the above work on non-ferrous alloys was 
being done, great progress was being made in the study of iron and 
steel by Osmond and Le Chatelier. In 1890 the Institute of Mechanical 
Engineers, not apparently without considerable misgivings on the part 
of some of its members, formed an Alloys Research Committee. This 
Committee invited Professor (afterwards Sir William) Roberts-Austen 
to undertake research work for them. The results of his investigations 
are contained in a series of five valuable reports, extending from 1891 
to 1899, published in the Journal of the Institute. The first report 
contained a deseription of an improved form of the Le Chatelier record- 
ing pyrometer, and the instrument has since proved a powerful weapon 
of research. In the second report, issued in 1893, the effects on the 
properties of copper of small quantities of arsenic, bismuth, and 
antimony were discussed. Whilst some engineers advocated, others 
as strongly controverted, the beneficial results of small quantities of 


arsenic on the copper used for the fireboxes of locomotives. The 
report showed that the presence of from °5-1 per cent. of arsenic was 
highly beneficial. The third report dealt with electric welding and 
the production of alloys of iron and aluminium. The fourth report 
is particularly valuable, as it contains a résumé of the Bakerian Lecture 
given by Roberts-Austen on the diffusion of metals in the solid state, 
in which he showed that gold, even at as low a temperature as 100°, 
could penetrate into lead, and that iron became carbonised at a low 
red heat by contact with a diamond in a vacuum. In 1899 the fifth 
report appeared, on the effects of the addition of carbon to iron. This 
report is of especial importance, because, besides a description of the 
thermal effects produced by carbon, which he carefully plotted and 
photographed, he described the microscopical appearance of the various 
constituents of iron. The materials of this report, together with the 
work of Osmond and others on steel and iron, provided much of the 
material on which Professor Bakhuis Roozeboom founded the iron 
carbon equilibrium diagram. Reference should also be made to the 
very valuable paper by Stansfield on the present position of the solution 
theory of carbonised iron (Journ. Iron and Steel Inst., 11, 1900, 
p. 317). It may be said of this fifth report, and the two papers just 
referred to, that they form the most important contribution to the study 
of iron and steel that has ever been published. Although the diagram 
for the: equilibrium of iron and carbon does not represent the whole 
of the facts, it affords the most important clue to these alloys, and 
undoubtedly. forms the basis of most of the modern practice of steel 
manufacture. (Slide showing iron carbon diagram.) 

Many workers, both at home and abroad, were now actively engaged 
in metallurgical work—Stead, Osmond, Le Chatelier, Arnold, Hadfield, 
Carpenter, Ewing, Rosenhain, and others too numerous to mention. 

In 1897 Neville and I determined the complete freezing-point curve 
of the copper-tin alloys, confirming and extending the work of Roberts- 
Austen, Stansfield, and Le Chatelier; but the real meaning of the 
curve remained as much of a mystery as ever. Early in 1900 Sir G. 
Stokes suggested to us that we should make a microscopic examination 
of a few bronzes as an aid to the interpretation of the singularities 
of the freezing-point curve. An account of this work, which occupied 
us for more than two years,-was published as the Bakerian Lecture 
of the Royal Society in February 1903. Whilst preparing a number 
of copper-tin alloys of known composition we were struck by the fact 
that the crystalline pattern which developed on the free surface of the 
slowly cooled alloys was entirely unlike the structure developed by 
polishing and etching sections cut from the interior; it therefore 
appeared probable that changes were going on within the alloys as 
they cooled. In the hope that, as Sorby had shown in the case of 
steel, we could stereotype or fix the change by sudden cooling, we 
melted small ingots of the copper-tin alloys and slowly cooled them 
to selected temperatures and then suddenly chilled them in water.’ The 
results of this treatment were communicated to the Royal Society and 
published in the Proceedings, February 1901. (Slides showing effects 
of chilling alloys.) 


To apply this method to a selected alloy we first determined its 
cooling curve by means of an automatic recorder, the curve usually 
showing several halts or steps in it. The temperature of the highest 
of these steps corresponded with a point on the liquidus, i.e., when 
solid first separated out from the molten mass. To ascertain what 
occurred at the subsequent halts, ingots of the melted alloy were slowly 
cooled to within a few degrees above and below the halt and then 
chilled, with the result just seen on the screen. 

The method of chilling also enabled us to fix, with some degree 
of accuracy, the position of points on the solidus. If an alloy, chilled 
when it is partly solid and partly liquid, is polished and etched, it 
will be seen to consist of large primary combs embedded in a matrix 
consisting of mother liquor, in which are disseminated numerous small 
combs, which we called ‘ chilled primary.’ By repeating the process 
at successively lower and lower temperatures we obtained a point at 
which the chilled primary no longer formed, i.e., the upper limit of 
the solidus. 

Although we made but few determinations of the physical properties 
of the alloys, it is needless to say how much they vary with the 
temperature and with the rapidity with which they are heated or cooled. 

From a consideration of the singularities in the liquidus curve, 
coupled with the microscopic examination of slowly cooled and chilled 
alloys, we were able to divide the copper-tin alloys into certain groups 
having special qualities. It would take far too long to discuss these 
divisions. In interpreting our result we were greatly assisted not only 
by the application of the phase rule, but also by the application of 
Roozeboom’s theory of solid solution (unfortunately Professor Rooze- 
boom’s letters were destroyed by fire in June 1910) and by the advice 
he kindly gave us. At the time the paper was published we expressly 
stated that we did not regard all our results as final, as much more 
work was required to clear up points still obscure. Other workers— 
Shepherd and Blough, Giolitti and Tavanti—have somewhat modified 
the diagram. (Slides shown.) 

Neither Shepherd and Blough nor Hoyt have published the photo- 
micrographs upon which their results are based, so that it is impos- 
sible to criticise their conclusions. Giolitti and Tavanti have published 
some microphotographs, from which it seems that they had not allowed 
sufficient time for equilibrium to be established. In this connection I 
must call attention to the excellent work of Haughton on the con- 
stitution of the alloys of copper and tin (Journ. Institute of Metals, 
March 1915). He investigated the alloys rich in tin, and illustrated 
his conclusions by singularly beautiful microphotographs, and has done 
much to clear up doubtful points in this region of the diagram. I 
have dwelt at some length on this work, for copper-tin is probably the 
first of the binary alloys on which an attempt had been made to 
determine the changes which take place in passing from one pure 
constituent to the other. I would again call attention to the fact that 
without a working theory of solution the interpretation of the results 
would have been impossible. 

Since 1900, many complete equilibrium diagrams have been pub- 


lished ; amongst them may be mentioned the work of Rosenhain and 
Tucker on the lead-tin alloys (Phil. Trans., 1908), in which they describe 
hitherto unsuspected changes on the lead rich side which go on when 
these alloys are at quite low temperatures, also the constitution of the 
alloys of aluminium and zinc; the work of Rosenhain and Archbutt 
(Phil. Trans., 1911), and quite recently the excellent work of Vivian, 
on the alloys of tin and phosphorus, which has thrown an entirely 
new light on this difficult subject. 

So far I have called attention to some of the difficulties encountered 
in the examination of binary alloys. When we come to ternary alloys 
the difficulties of carrying out an investigation are enormously increased, 
whilst with quaternary alloys they seem almost insurmountable; in the 
case of steels containing always six, and usually more, constituents, we 
can only hope to get information by purely empirical methods. 

Large numbers of the elements and their compounds which originally 
were laboriously prepared and investigated in the. laboratory and 
remained dormant as chemical curiosities for many years have, in the 
fulness of time, taken their places as important and, indeed, essential 
articles of commerce. Passing over the difficulties encountered by 
Davy in the preparation of metallic sodium and by Faraday in the 
production of benzene (both of which materials are manufactured in 
enormous quantities at the present time), I may remark that even 
during my own lifetime I have seen a vast number of substances trans- 
ferred from the category of rare laboratory products to that which 
comprises materials of the utmost importance to the modern metal- 
lurgical industries. A few decades ago, aluminium, chromium, cerium, 
thorium, tungsten, manganese, magnesium, molybdenum, nickel, 
calcium and calcium carbide, carborundum, and acetylene were un- 
known outside the chemical laboratory of the purely scientific inyesti- 
gator; to-day these elements, their compounds and alloys, are 
amongst the most valuable of our industrial metallic products. They 
are essential in the manufacture of high-speed steels, of armour-plate, 
of filaments for the electric bulb lamp, of incandescent gas mantles, and 
of countless other products of modern scientific industry. 

All these metallic elements and compounds were discovered, and 
their industrial uses foreshadowed, during the course of the purely 
academic research work carried out in our Universities and Colleges ; all 
have become the materials upon which great and lucrative industries 
have been built up. Although the scientific worker has certainly not ex- 
hibited any cupidity in the past—although he has been content to rejoice 
in his own contributions to knowledge, and to see great. manufacturing 
enterprises founded upon his work—it is clear that the obligation 
devolves upon those who have reaped in the world’s markets the fruit 
of scientific discovery to provide from their harvest the financial aid 
without which scientific research cannot be continued. 

The truth of this statement is well understood by those of our great 
industrial leaders who are engaged in translating the results of scientific 
research into technical practice. As evidence of this I may quote the 
magnificent donation of 210,0001. by the British Oil Companies towards 
the endowment: of the School of Chemistry in the University of Cam- 


bridge, the noble bequest of the late Dr. Messel, one of the most en- 
lightened of our technical chemists, for defraying the cost of scientific 
research, the gifts of the late Dr. Ludwig Mond towards the upkeep 
and expansion of the Royal Institution, one of the strongholds of British 
chemical research, and the financial support given by the Goldsmiths’ 
and others of the great City of London Livery Companies (initiated 
largely by the late Sir Frederick Abel, Sir Frederick Bramwell, and 

_ Mr. George Matthey), to the foundation of the Imperial College of 

Science and Technology. The men who initiated these gifts have been 
themselves intimately associated with developments both in ‘science 
and industry; they have understood that the field must be prepared 
before the crop can be reaped. Fortunately our great chemical indus- 
triés are, for the most part, controlled and administered by men fully 
conversant with the mode in which technical progress and prosperity 
follow upon scientific achievement ; and it is my pleasant duty to reeord 
that within the last few weeks the directors of one of our greatest 
chemical-manufacturing concerns have, with the consent of their 
shareholders, devoted £100,000 to research. Doubtless other chemical 
industries will in due course realise what they have to gain by an ade- 
quate appreciation of pure science. 

Tf the effort now being made to establish a comprehensive scheme 
for the resuscitation of chemical industry within our Empire is to 
succeed, financial support on a very liberal scale must be forthcoming, 
from the industry itself, for the advancement of purely scientific 
research. This question has been treated recently in so able a fashion 
by Lord Moulton that nothing now remains but to await the results of 
his appeal for funds in aid of the advancement of pure science. 

In order to prevent disappointment, and a possible reaction in the 
future, in those who endow pure research, it is necessary to give a word 
of warning. It must be remembered that the history of science abounds 
in illustrations of discoveries, regarded at the time as trivial, which have 
in after years become epoch-making. 

In illustration I would cite Faraday’s discovery of electro-magnetic 
induction. He found that when a bar magnet was thrust into the 
core of a bobbin of insulated copper wire, whose terminals were con- 
nected with a galvanometer, a momentary current was produced; 
whilst on withdrawing the magnet a momentary reverse current 
occurred; a purely scientific experiment destined in later years to 
develop into the dynamo and with it’ the whole electrical industry. 
Another illustration may be given: Guyton de Morveau, Northmore, 
Davy, Faraday and Cagniard Latour between 1800 and 1850 were 
engaged in liquefying many of the gases. Hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen, 
marsh gas, carbon-monoxide, and nitric oxide, however, resisted all 
efforts, until the work of Joule and Andrews gave the clue to the causes 
of failure. Some thirty years later by careful application of the 
theoretical considerations all the gases were liquefied. The liquefaction 
of oxygen and nitrogen now forms the basis of a very large and 
important industry. 

_Such cases can be multiplied indefinitely in all branches of 


Perhaps the most pressing need of the present day lies in the 
cultivation of a better understanding between our great masters of 
productive industry, the shareholders to whom they are in the first. 
degree responsible, and our scientific workers; if, by reason of any 
turbidity of vision, our large manufacturing corporations fail to discern : 
that, in their own interest, the financial support of purely scientific 
research should be one of their first cares, technical advance will slacken 
and other nations, adopting a more far-sighted policy, will forge ahead 
in science and technology. It should, I venture to think, be the 
bounden duty of everyone who has at heart the aims and objects of 
the British Association to preach the doctrine that in closer sympathy 
between all classes of productive labour, manual and intellectual, lies 
our only hope for the future. I cannot do better than conclude by 
quoting the words of Pope, one of our most characteristically British 
poets : 
‘ By mutual confidence and mutual aid 

Great deeds are done‘and great discoveries made.’ 








Or the many distinguished men who have preceded me in this chair 
only eight can be described as essentially palaeontologists ; and among 
them few seized the occasion to expound the broader principles of their 
science. I propose, then, to consider the Relations of Palaeontology to 
the other Natural Sciences, especially the Biological, to discuss its 
particular contribution to biological thought, and to inquire whether its 
facts justify certain hypotheses frequently put forward in its name. 
Several of those hypotheses were presented to you in his usual masterly 
manner by Dr. Smith Woodward in 1909, and yet others are clearly 
elucidated in two Introductions to Palaeontology which we have been 
delighted to welcome as British products: the books by Dr. Morley 
Davies and Dr. H. L. Hawkins. If I subject those attractive specula- 
tions to cold analysis it is from no want of admiration or even sympathy, 
for in younger days I too have sported with Vitalism in the shade 
and been caught in the tangles of Transcendental hair. 

The Differentia of Palaeontology. 

Like Botany and Zoology, Palaeontology describes the external 
and internal form and structure of animals and plants; and on this 
description it bases, first, a systematic classification of its material ; 
secondly, those broader inductions of comparative anatomy which con- 
stitute morphology, or the science of form. Arising out of these studies 
are the questions of relation—real or apparent kinship, lines of descent, 
the how and the why of evolution—the answers to which reflect their 
light back on our morphological and classificatory systems. By a 
different approach we map the geographical distribution of genera and 
species, thus helping to elucidate changes of land and sea, and so barring 
out one hypothesis of racial descent or unlocking the door to another. 
Again, we study collective faunas and floras, unravelling the interplay 
of their component animals and plants, or inferring from each assem- 
blage the climatic and other physical agents that favoured, selected, and 
delimited it. 


All this, it may be said, is nothing more than the Botany and 
Zoology of the past. True, the general absence of any soft tissues, and 
the obscured or fragmentary condition of those harder parts which alone 
are preserved, make the studies of the palaeontologist more difficult, and 
drive him to special methods. But the result is less complete: in short, 
an inferior and unattractive branch of Biology. Let us relegate it to 
Section C! 

Certainly the relation of Palaeontology to Geology is obvious. It is 
a part of that general history of the Earth which is Geology. And it is 
an essential part even of physical geology, for without life not merely 
would our series of strata have lacked the coal measures, the mountain 
limestones, the chalks, and the siliceous earths, but the changes of land 
and sea would have been far other. To the scientific interpreter of 
Earth-history, the importance of fossils lies first in their value as date- 
markers ; secondly, in the light which they cast on barriers and currents, 
on seasonal and climatic variation. Conversely, the history of life has 
itself been influenced by geologic change. But all this is just as true of 
the present inhabitants of the globe as it is of their predecessors. It 
does not give the differentia of Palaeontology. 

That which above all distinguishes Palaeontology—the study of 
ancient creatures, from Neontology—the study of creatures now living, 
that which raises it above the mere description of extinct assemblages of 
life-forms, is the concept of Time. Not the quasi-absolute time of the 
clock, or rather, of the sun; not various unrelated durations; but an 
orderly and related succession, coextensive, in theory at least, with 
the whole history of life on this planet. The bearing of this obvious 
statement will appear from one or two simple illustrations. 

Effect of the Time-concept on Principles of Classification. 

Adopting the well-tried metaphor, let us imagine the tree of life 
buried, except for its topmost twigs, beneath a sand-dune. The neontolo- 
gist sees only the unburied twigs. He recognises certain rough group- 
ings, and eonstructs a classification accordingly. From various hints 
he may shrewdly infer that some twigs come from one branch, some 
from another; but the relations of the branches to the main stem are 
matters of speculation, and when branches have become so interlaced 
that their twigs have long been subjected to the same external influences, 
he will probably be led to incorrect conclusions. The palaeontologist 
then comes, shovels away the sand, and by degrees exposes the true 
relations of branches and twigs. His work is not yet accomplished, and 
probably he never will reveal the root and lower part of the tree; but 
already he has corrected many natural, if not inevitable, errors of the 

I could easily occupy the rest of this hour by discussing the pro- 
found changes wrought by this conception on our classification. It is 
not that Orders and Classes hitherto unknown have been discovered, 
not that some erroneous allocations have been corrected, but the whole 
basis of our system is being shifted. So long as we were dealing with 


& horizontal section across the tree of life—that is to say, with an assem- 
blage of approximately contemporaneous forms—or even with a number 
of such horizontal sections, so long were we confined to simple descrip- 
tion. Any attempt to frame a causal connection was bound to be 
speculative. Certain relations of structure, as of cloven hooves with 
horns and with a ruminant stomach, were observed, but, as Cuvier him- 
self insisted, the laws based on such facts were purely empirical. 
Huxley, then, was justified in maintaining, as he did in 1863 and for 
long after, that a zoological classification could be based with profit on 
‘ purely structural considerations’ alone. ‘ Every group in that [kind 
of] classification is such in virtue of certain structural characters, which 
are not only common to the members of that group, but distinguish it 
from all others; and the statement of these constitutes the definition of 
the group.’ In such a classification the groups or categories—from 
species and genera up to phyla—are the expressions of an arbitrary in- 
tellectual decision. From Linnaeus downwards botanists and zoologists 
have sought for a classification that should be not arbitrary but natural, 
though what they meant by ‘ natural ’ neither Linnaeus nor his succes- 
sors either could or would say. Not, that is, until the doctrine of 
descent was firmly established, and even now its application remains 
impracticable, except in those cases where sufficient proof of genetic 
connection has been furnished—as it has been mainly by palaeontology. 
In many cases we now perceive the causal connection ; and we recognise 
that our groupings, so far as they follow the blood-red clue, are not 
arbitrary but tables of natural affinity. 

Fresh difficulties, however, arise. Consider the branching of a tree. 
Tt is easy to distinguish the twigs and the branches each from each, 
but where are we to draw the line along each ascending stem? To con- 
vey the new conception of change in time we must introduce a new set 
of systematic categories, called grades or series, keeping our old cate- 
gories of families, orders, and the like for the vertical divisions between 
the branches. Thus, many crinoids with pinnulate arms arose from 
others in which the arms were non-pinnulate. We cannot place them 
in an Order by themselves, because the ancestors belonged to two or 
three Orders. We must keep them in the same Orders as their respec- 
tive ancestors, but distinguish a Grade Pinnata from a Grade Impin- 

This sounds fairly simple, and for the larger groups so it is. But 
when we consider the genus, we are met with the difficulty that many 
of our existing genera represent grades of structure affecting a number 
of species, and several of those species can be traced back through 
previous grades. This has long been recognised, but I take a modern 
instance from H. F. Osborn’s ‘ Equidae’ (1918, Mem. Amer. Mus. 
N.H., ns. II. 51): ‘The line between such species as Miohippus 
(Mesohippus) meteulophus and M. brachystylus of the Leptauchenia 
zone and M. (Mesohippus) intermedius of the Protoceras zone is purely 
arbitrary. It is obvious that members of more than one phylum [i.e., 
lineage] are passing from one genus into the next, and Mesohippus 
meteulophus and M. brachystylus may with equal consistency be 
referred. to Miohippus.’ 


The problem is reduced to its simplest elements in the -following 
scheme :— | 4 

Big Dr tC, AO Cink Italics. 

IE CHT: RP Lower-case Roman. 
ABCDEF Capitals Roman. 
a By Si €o Greek. 

Our genera are equivalent to the forms of letters: ~ Italics, Raintin; 
Greek, and so forth. The successive species are the letters themselves. 
Are we to make each species a genus? Or would it not be better to 
confess that here, as in the case of many larger groups, our basis of 
classification is wrong? For the palaeontologist, at any rate, the lineage 
a, A, a, a, is the all-important concept. Between these forms he finds 
every gradation ; but between a and 6 he perceives no connection. 

. Inthe old classification the vertical divisions either were arbitrary, 
or were gaps due to ignorance. We are gradually substituting a 
classification in which the vertical divisions are based» on knowledge, 
and the horizontal divisions, though in some degree: arbitrary, often 
coincide with relatively sudden or physiologically important changes) of 

This brings us to the last point of contrast. Quix Ji fanaa can 
no longer have the rigid character emphasised by Huxley. They are 
no longer purely descriptive. When it devolved on me to draw up 
a definition of the great group Echinoderma, a definition that should 
include all the fossils, I found that scarcely a character given in the 
textbooks could certainly be predicated of every member of the group. 
The answer to the question, ‘ What is an Echinoderm?’ (and you may 
substitute Mollusc, or Vertebrate, or what name you please) has to 
be of this nature: An HEchinoderm is an animal descended: from an 
ancestor possessed of such-and-such characters differentiating it from 
other animal forms, and it still retains the imprint ofthat ancestor, 
though modified and obscured in various ways according to the class, 
order, family, and genus to which it belongs. The etindibibean given 
by Professor Charles Schuchert in his classification of the Brachiopoda 
(1913, Eastman’s ‘ Zittel’) represent an interesting attempt to put 
these principles into practice. The Family Porambonitidae, for instance, 
is thus defined: ‘ Derived (out of Syntrophiidae), progressive, semi- 
rostrate Pentamerids, with the deltidia and chilidia vanishing more 
and more in. time. Spondylia and cruralia present, but the - former 
tends to thicken and unite with the ventral valve.’ 

The old form of diagnosis was per genus et differentiam. The new 
form is per proavum et modificationem. 

Even the conception of our fundamental unit, the species, is in- 
secure owing to the discovery of gradual changes. But this is a 
difficulty which the palaeontologist shares with the neontologist. 

Let us consider another way in which the time-concept has affected 

Effect of the Time-concept on Ideas of Relationship. 

Etienne Geoffroy-Saint Hilaire was the first to. compare the embryonic 
stages of certain animals with the adult stages of animals considered 

0.-—GEOLOGY. 65 

inferior. Through the more precise observations of Yon Baer, Louis 
Agassiz, and others, the idea grew until it was crystallised by the 
poetic imagination of Haeckel in his fundamental law of the reproduction 
of life—namely, that every creature tends in the course of its individual 
development to pass through stages similar to those passed through 
in the history of its race. This principle is of value if applied with 
the necessary safeguards. If it was ever brought into disrepute, it 
was owing to the reckless enthusiasm of some embryologists, who 
unwarrantably extended the statement to all shapes and_ structures 
observed in the developing animal, such as those evoked by special 
conditions of larval existence, sometimes forgetting that every con- 
ceivable ancestor must at least have been capable of earning its own 
livelihood. Or, again, they compared the early stages of an individual 
with the adult structure of its contemporaries instead of with that of 
its predecessors in time. Often, too, the searcher into the embryology 
of creatures now living was forced to study some form that really was 
highly specialised, such as the unstalked Crinoid Antedon, and he 
made matters worse by comparing its larvae with forms far too remote 
in time. Allman, for instance, thought he saw in the developing 
Antedon a Cystid stage, and so the Cystids were regarded as the ancestors 
of the Crinoids; but we now find that stage more closely paralleled 
in some Crinoids of Carboniferous and Permian age, and we realise 
that the Cystid structure is quite different. 

Such errors were due to the ignoring of time relations or to lack 
of acquaintance with extinct forms, and were beautifully illustrated 
in those phylogenetic trees which, in the ’eighties, every dissector of 
a new or striking animal thought it his duty to plant at the end of 
his paper. The trees have withered, because they were not rooted in 
the past. 

A similar mistake was made by the palaeontologist who, happening 
on a new fossil, blazoned it forth as a jink between groups previously 
unconnected—and in too many cases unconnected still. This action, 
natural and even justifiable under the old purely descriptive system, 
became fallacious when descent was taken as the basis. In those days 
one heard much of generalised types, especially among the older fossils ; 
animals were supposed to combine the features of two or three classes. 
This mode of thought is not quite extinct, for in the last American 
edition of Zittel’s ‘ Palaeontology ’ Stephanocrinus is still spoken of as 
a Crinoid related to the Blastoids, if not also to the Cystids. Let it 
be clear that these so-called ‘ generalised’ or ‘ annectant’ types are 
not regarded by their expositors as ancestral. Of course, a genus 
existing at a certain period may give rise to two different genera of a 
succeeding period, as possibly the Devonian Coelocrinus evolved into 
Agaricocrinus, with concave base, and into Dorycrinus, with convex 
base, both Carboniferous genera. But, to exemplify the kind of state- 
ment here criticised, perhaps I may quote from another distinguished 
writer of the present century: ‘The new genus is a truly annectant 
form uniting the Melocrinidae and the Platycrinidae.” Now the genus 
in question appeared, so far as we know, rather late in the Lower 
Carboniferous, whereas both Platycrinidae and Melocrinidae were already 

1920 2 


established in Middle Silurian time, How is it possible that the far 
later form should unite these two ancient families? Even a mésalliance 
is inconceivable. In a word, to describe any such forms as ‘ annectant’ 
is not merely to misinterpret structure but to ignore time. 

As bold suggestions calling for subsequent proof these speculations 
had their value, and they may be forgiven in the neontologist, if not 
in the palaeontologist, if we regard them as erratic pioneer tracks blazed 
through a tangled forest, As our acquaintance with fossils enlarged, 
the general direction became clearer, and certain paths were seen to 
be impossible. In 1881, addressing this Association at York, Huxley 
could say: ‘ Fifty years hence, whoever undertakes to record the 
progress of palaeontology will note the present time as the epoch in 
which the law of succession of the forms of the higher animals was 
determined by the observation of palaeontological facts. He will point 
out that, just as Steno and as Cuvier were enabled from their knowledge 
of the empirical laws of co-existence of the parts of animals to conclude 
from a part to a whole, so the knowledge of the law of succession of 
forms empowered their successors to conclude, from one or two terms 
of such a succession, to the whole series, and thus to divine the existence 
of forms of life, of which, perhaps, no trace remains, at epochs of 
inconceivable remoteness in the past.’ 

Descent Not a Corollary of Succession. 

Note that Huxley spoke of succession, not of descent. Succession 
undoubtedly was recognised, but the relation between the terms of the 
succession was little understood, and there was no proof of descent. 
Leti us suppose all written records to be swept away, and an attempt 
made to reconstruct English history from coins. We could set out our 
monarchs in true order, and we might suspect that the throne was 
hereditary; but if on that assumption we were to make James I. the 
son of Hlizabeth—well, but that’s just what palaeontologists are con- 
stantly doing. The famous diagram of the Evolution of the Horse which 
Huxley used in his American lectures has had to be corrected in the 
light of the fuller evidence recently tabulated in a handsome volume 
by Professor H. F. Osborn and his coadjutors. Palaeotherium, which 
Huxley regarded as a direct ancestor of the horse, is now held to be 
only a collateral, as the last of the Tudors were collateral ancestors 
of the Stuarts. The later Anchitheriwum must be eliminated from the 
true line as a side-branch—a Young Pretender. Sometimes an apparent 
succession is due to immigration of a distant relative from some other 
region-—‘ The glorious House of Hanover and Protestant Succession.’ 
It was, you will remember, by such migrations that Cuvier explained 
the renewal of life when a previous fauna had become extinct. He 
admitted succession but not descent. If he rejected special creation, 
he did-not accept evolution. 

Descent, then, is not a corollary of succession. Or, to broaden the 
statement, history is not the same as evolution. History is a succession 
of events. Evolution means that each event has sprang’ from the pre- 
ceding one. .Not that the preceding event was the active cause of its 
successor, buf that it was a necessary condition of if. For the evolu- 


| 0.—GEOLOGY. 67 

tionary biologist, a species contains in itself and its environment the 
possibility of producing its successor. ‘The words ‘its environment ’ 
are necessary, because a living organism cannot be conceived apart 
from its environment. They are important, because they exclude from 
the idea of organic evolution the hypothesis that all subsequent forms 
were implicit in the primordial protoplast alone, and were manifested 
either through a series of degradations, as when Thorium by successive 
disintegrations transmutes itself to Lead, or through fresh develop- 
ments due to the successive loss of inhibiting factors. I say ‘a species 
contains the possibility ’ rather than ‘ the potentiality,’ because we 
cannot start by assuming any kind of innate power. 

Huxley, then, forty years ago, claimed that palaeontologists had 
proved an orderly succession. To-day we claim to have proved evolution 
by descent. But how do we prove it? The neontologist, for all his 
experimental breeding, has scarcely demonstrated the transmutation 
of a species. The palaeontologist cannot assist at even a single birth. 
The evidence remains circumstantial. 

Recapitulation as Proof of Descent. 

Circumstantial evidence is convincing only if inexplicable on any 
other admissible theory. Such evidence is, I believe, afforded by 
palaeontological instances of Haeckel’s law—1.e., the recapitulation by 
an individual during its growth of stages attained by adults in the 
previous history of the race. You all know how this has been applied 
to the ammonites ; but any creatures with a shell or skeleton that grows 
by successive additions and retains the earlier stages unaltered can be 
studied by this method. If we take a chronological series of apparently 
related species or mutations, a’, a?, a°, a*, and if in a* we find that 
' the growth stage immediately preceding the adult resembles the adult 
a*, and that the next preceding stage resembles a?, and so on; if this 
applies mutatis mutandis to the other species of the series; and if, 
further, the old age of each species foreshadows the adult character 
of its successor; then we are entitled to infer that the relation between 
the species is one of descent. Mistakes are liable to occur for various 
reasons, which we are learning to guard against. For example, the 
perennial desire of youth to attain a semblance of maturity leads often 
to the omission of some steps in the orderly process. But this and 
other eccentricities affect the earlier rather than the later stages, so 
that it is always possible to identify the immediate ancestor, if it can 
be found. Here we have to remember that the ancestor may not have 
lived in the same locality, and that therefore a single cliff-section does 
not always provide a complete or simple series. An admirable example 
of the successful search for a father is provided by R. G. Carruthers 
in his paper on the evolution of Zaphrentis delanouei (1910, Quart. 
Journ. Geol, Soc., lxvi., 523). Surely when we get a clear case of 
this kind we are entitled to use the word ‘ proof,’ and to say that we 
have not merely observed the succession, but have proved the filiation. 

_ It has, indeed, been objected to the theory of recapitulation that 
the stages of individual growth are an inevitable consequence of an 


animal’s gradual development from the embryo to the adult, and there- 
fore prove nothing. Even now there are those who maintain that the 
continuity of the germ-plasm is inconsistent with any true recapitula- 
tion. Let us try to see what thismeans. Take any evolutionary series, 
and consider the germ-plasm at any early stage in it. The germ, it is 
claimed, contains the factors which produce the adult characters of that 
stage. Now proceed to the next stage of evolution. The germ has 
either altered or it has not. If it has not altered, the new adult 
characters are due to something outside the germ, to factors which may 
be in the environment but are notin the germ. In this case the animal 
must be driven by the inherited factors to reproduce the ancestral form ; 
the modifications due to other factors will come in on the top of this, 
and if they come in gradually and in the later stages of growth, then 
there will be recapitulation. There does not seem to be any difficulty 
here. You may deny the term ‘ character’ to these modifications, and 
you may say that they are not really inherited, that they will disappear 
entirely if the environment reverts to its original condition. Such lan- 
guage, however, does not alter the fact, and when we pass to subsequent 
stages of evolution and find the process repeated, and the recapitulation 
becoming longer, then you will be hard put to it to imagine that the 
new environment produces first the effects of the old and then its own 
particular effect. 

Even if we do suppose that the successive changes in, say, an 
ammonite as it passes from youth to age are adaptations to successive 
environments, this must mean that there is a recapitulation of environ- 
ment. If is an explanation of structural recapitulation, but the fact 
remains. There is no difficulty in supposing an individual to pass 
through the same succession of environments as were encountered in 
the past history of its race. Every common frog is an instance. . The 
phenomenon is of the same nature as the devious route followed in their 
migrations by certain birds, a route only to be explained as the repetition 
of past history. There are, however, many cases, especially among 
sedentary organisms, which cannot readily be explained in this way. 

Let us then examine the other alternative and suppose that every 
evolutionary change is due to a change in the germ—how produced we 
need not now inquire. Then, presumably, it is claimed that at each 
stage of evolution the animal will grow from the egg to the adult along 
a direct path. For present purposes we ignore purely larval modifications, 
and admit that the claim appears reasonable. The trouble is that it 
does not harmonise with facts. The progress from youth to age is not 
always a simple advance. The creature seems to go out of its way to 
drag in a growth-stage that is out of the straight road, and can be ex- 
plained only by the fact that it is inherited from an ancestor. Thus, 
large ammonites of the Xipheroceras planicosta group, beginning 
smooth, pass through a ribbed stage, which may be omitted, through 
unituberculate and bituberculate stages, back to ribbed and smooth 
again. The anal plate of the larval Antedon, which ends its course 
and finally disappears above the limits of the cup, begins life in that 
lower position which the similar plate occupied in most of the older 

we % 

‘C.—GEOLOG Y. 69 

Here, then, is a difficulty. It can be overcome in two ways. A 
view held by many is that there are two kinds of characters: first, those 
fhat arise from changes in the germ, and appear as sudden or discon- 
tinuous variations; second, those that are due to external (i.e., non- 
germinal) factors. It seems a corollary of this view that the external 
characters should so affect the germ-plasm as ultimately to produce in 
it the appropriate factors. This is inheritance of acquired characters. 
The other way out of the difficulty is to suppose that all characters 
other than fluctuations or temporary modifications are germinal; that 
changes are due solely to changes in the constitution of the germ; and 
that, although a new character may not manifest itself till the creature 
has reached old age, nevertheless it was inherent in the germ and latent 
through the earlier growth-stages. This second hypothesis involves 
two further difficulties. It is not easy to formulate a mechanism by 
which a change in the constitution of the germ shall produce a character 
of which no trace can be detected until old age sets in; such acharacter, 
for instance, as the tuberculation of the last-formed portion of an 
ammonite shell. Again, it is generally maintained that characters due 
to this change of germinal factors, however minute they may be, make 
a sudden appearance. They are said to be discontinuous. They act 
as integral units. Now the characters we are trying to explain seem 
to us palaeontologists to appear very gradually, both in the individual 
and in the race. Their beginnings are small, scarcely perceptible; they 
increase gradually in size or strength; and gradually they appear at 
earlier and earlier stages in the life-cycle. It appears least difficult to 
suppose that characters of this kind are not initiated in the germ, and 
that they, if no others, may be subject to recapitulation. It may not 
yet be possible to visualise the whole process by which such characters 
are gradually established, or to refer the phenomena of recapitulation 
back to more fundamental principles. But the phenomena are there, 
and if any hypothesis is opposed to them so much the worse for the 
hypothesis. However they be explained, the instances of recapitula- 
tion afford convincing proof of descent, and so of genetic evolution. 

The ‘ Line upon Line’ Method of Palaeontology. 

You will have observed that the precise methods of the modern 
palaeontologist, on which this proof is based, are very different from the 
slap-dash conclusions of forty years ago. The discovery of Archae- 
opteryx, for instance, was thought to prove the evolution of Birds from 
Reptiles. No doubt it rendered that conclusion extremely probable, 
especially if the major premiss—that evolution was the method of 
nature—were assumed. But the fact of evolution is precisely what 
men were then trying to prove. These jumpings from Class to Class 
or from Era to Era, by aid of a few isolated stepping-stones, were what 
Bacon calls Anticipations, ‘ hasty and premature ’ but ‘ very effective, 
because as they are collected from a few instances, and mostly from 
those which are of familiar occurrence, they immediately dazzle the 
intellect and fill the imagination ’ (Nov. Org. I. 28). No secure step 
was taken until the modern palacontologist began to affiliate mutation 
with mutation and species with species, working his way back, literally 


inch by inch, through a single small group of strata. Only. thus could 
he base on the laboriously collected facts a single true Interpretation ; 
and to. those who preferred the broad path of generality his Interpreta- 
tions seemed, as Bacon says they always ‘must. seem, harsh and 
discordant—almost like mysteries of faith.’ 

It is impossible to read these words without thinking of one 
‘naturae minister et interpres,’ whose genius was the first in_ this 
country to appreciate and apply to palaeontology the Novum Organon. 
Devoting his whole life to abstruse research, he has persevered with 
this method in the face of distrust and has produced a, series of brilliant 
studies which, whatever their defects, have illuminated the problems of 
stratigraphy and gone far to revolutionise systematic palaeontology. 
Many are the workers of to-day who acknowledge a master in Sydney 
Savory Buckman. 

I have long believed that the only safe mode of advance in palae- 
ontology is that which Bacon counselled and Buckman has practised, 
namely, ‘ uniformly and step by step.’ Was this not indeed the prin- 
ciple that guided Linnaeus himself? Not till we have linked species 
into lineages, can we group them into genera; not till we have un- 
ravelled the strands by which genus is connected with genus can we 
draw the limits of families. Not till that has been accomplished can 
we see how the lines: of descent. diverge or converge, so as to warrant 
the establishment of Orders. Thus by degrees we reject the old slippery 
stepping-stones that so often toppled us into the stream, and foot by foot 
we build a secure bridge over the waters of ignorance. 

The work is slow, for the material is not always to hand, but as we 
build we learn fresh principles and test our current hypotheses. To 
some of these I would now direct your attention. 

Continuity in Development. 

Let us look first at this question of continuity. Does an evolving 
line change by discontinuous steps (saltations), as when a man mounts 
a ladder; or does it change continuously, as when a wheel rolls up- 
hill? The mere question of fact is extraordinarily difficult to determine. 
Considering the gaps in the geological record one would have expected 
palaeontologists to be the promulgators of the hypothesis of discon- 
tinuity. They are its chief opponents.‘ The advocates of discon- 
tinuity maintain that palaeontologists are misled: that the steps are so 
minute as to escape the observation of workers handicapped by the 
obscurities of their material; that many apparent characters are com- 
pound and cannot, in the case of fossils, be subjected to Mendelian 

1 As Dr. W. D. Matthew (1910, Pop. Sci. Monthly, p. 473) has well 
exemplified by the history of the Tertiary oreodont mammals in North America, 
the known record, taken at its face value, leads to ‘the conclusion that new 
species, new genera and even larger groups have appeared by saltatory evolution, 
not by continuous development.’ But a consideration of the general conditions 
controlling evolution and migration among jand mammals shows him that such 
a conclusion is unwarranted. ‘The more complete the series of specimens, 
the more perfect the record in successive strata, and the nearer the hypothetic 
centre of dispersal, the closer do we come. to a phyletic series whose. intergrading 
stages are we!] within the limits of observed variation of the race.’ 


analysis; that no palaeontologist can guarantee the genetic purity of the 
assemblages with which he works, even when his specimens are collected 
from a single locality and horizon. It is difficult to reply to such 
negative arguments. One can but give examples of the kind of obser- 
vation on which palaeontologists rely. 

Since Dr. Rowe’s elaborate analysis of the species of Micraster 
occurring in the Chalk of $.E. England, much attention has been 
concentrated on the gradual changes undergone by those sea-urchins 
in the course of ages. ‘The changes observed affect many characters ; 
indeed, they affect the whole test, and all parts are doubtless correlated. 
The changes come in regularly and gradually; there is no sign of 
discontinuity. It is convenient to give names to the successive forms, 
but they are linked up by innumerable gradations. There does not 
seem here to be any question of the sudden appearance of a new 
character, in one or in many individuals; or of the introduction of 
any character and the gradual extension of its range by cross-breeding 
until it has become universal and in turn gives way to some new 
step in advance. The whole assemblage is affected and moves forward 
in line, not with an advanced scout here and a straggler there. Slight 
variation between contemporaneous individuals occurs, no doubt, but 
the ‘limits are such that a trained collector can tell from a single fossil 
the level at which it has been found. The continuity of the changes is 
also inferred from such a fact as that in occasional specimens of 
Micraster cor-bovis the distinctness of the ambulacral sutures (which 
is one of these characters) is greater on one side of the test than on 
the other. 

Such changes as these may profitably be compared with those which 
Professor Duerden believes to be taking place in the ostrich. He too 
finds a slow continuous change affecting innumerable parts of the bird, 
a change that is universal and within slight limits of variation as 
between individuals. Even on the hypothesis that every barb of every 
feather is represented by a factor in the germ, he finds it impossible 
to regard the changes as other than continuous, and he is driven to 
the supposition (on the hypothesis of germinal factors) that the factors 
themselves undergo a gradual change, which he regards as due to old 
age. It is interesting also that he finds an occasional lop-sided change, 
such as we noted in Micraster cor-bovis. 

Whatever may be the explanation, the facts do seem to warrant 
the statement that evolutionary change can be, and offen is, continuous. 
Professor De Vries has unfortunately robbed palaeontologists of the 
word ‘ mutation,’ by which, following Waagen, they were accustomed 
to denote such change. I propose, therefore, to speak of it as 
‘transition.’ But here the question may be posed, whether such transi- 
tions can progress indefinitely, or whether they should not be compared 
to those divergences from the norm of a species which we call fluctua- 
tions, because, like the waves of the sea piled up by a gale, they return 
to their original level when the external cause is removed. If every 
apparent transition in time is of the latter nature, then, when it reaches 
a limit comparable to that circumscribing contemporary fluctuation, 
there must, if progress is to persist, be some disturbance provoking 


a saltation, and so giving a new centre to fluctuation and a fresh limit 
to the upward transition. Those who maintain such an hypothesis 
presumably regard transition as the response of the growing individual 
body to gradual change of the physical environment (somatic modifica- 
tion). But saltation they ascribe to a change in the composition of 
the germ. That change may be forced on the germ by the condition 
of the body, and may therefore be in harmony with the environment, 
and may produce a new form along that line. The new form may be 
obviously distinct from its predecessor, or the range of its fluctuation 
may overlap that of its predecessor, in which case it will be impossible 
to decide whether the change is one of transition or of saltation. This 
succession of hypotheses involves a good many difficulties; among 
others, the mechanism by which the germ is suddenly modified in 
accordance with the transition of the body remains obscure. But the 
facts before us seem to necessitate either perpetual transition or salta- 
tion acting in this manner. ‘Transition, we must admit, also involves 
a change of the germ pari passu with the change of the body. Conse- 
quently the difference between the two views seems to be narrowed 
down to a point which, if not trivial, is at any rate minute. 

The particular saltation-hypothesis which I have sketched may 
remind some hearers of the ‘ expression points ’ of E. D. Cope. That 
really was quite a different conception. Cope believed that, in several 
cases, generic characters, after persisting for a long time, changed 
with relative rapidity. This took place when the modifications of adult 
structure were pushed back so far prior to the period of reproduction 
as to be transmitted to the offspring. The brief period of time during 
which this rapid change occurred in any genus was an expression-point, 
and was compared by Cope to the critical temperature at which a gas 
changes into a liquid, or a liquid into a solid. The analogy is not 
much more helpful than Galton’s comparison of a fluctuating form to 
a rocking polyhedron, which one day rocks too much and topples over 
on to another face. It is, however, useful to note Cope’s opinion that 
these points were ‘ attained without leaps, and abandoned without 
abruptness.’ He did not believe that ‘ sports’ had ‘ any considerable 
influence on the course of evolution ’ (1887, ‘ Origin of Fittest,’ pp. 39, 
79; 1896, ‘ Factors Org. Evolution,’ pp. 24, 25). 

The Direction of Change: Seriation. 

The conception of connected change, whether by transition or by 
scarcely perceptible saltation, or by a combination of the two processes, 
leads us to consider the Direction of the Change. 

Those who attempt to classify species now living frequently find 
that they may be arranged in a continuous series, in which each species 
differs from its neighbours by a little less or a little more; they find 
that the series corresponds with the geographical distribution of the 
species; and they find sometimes that the change affects particular 
genera or families or orders, and not similar assemblages subjected, 
apparently, to the same conditions. They infer from this that the 
series represents a genetic relation, that each successive species is the 
descendant of its preceding neighbour ; and in some cases this inference 


is warranted by the evidence of recapitulation, a fact which further 
indicates that the change arises by addition or subtraction at the end 
of the individual life-cycle. So far as I am aware this phenomenon, 
at least so far as genera are concerned, was first precisely defined 
by Louis Agassiz in his ‘ Hssay on Classification,’ 1857. He called 
it ‘ Serial Connection,’ a term which connotes the bare statement of 
fact. Cope in his ‘ Origin of Genera,’ 1869, extended the observation, 
in a few cases, to species, and introduced the term ‘ Successional 
Relation,’ which for him implied descent. We may here use the brief 
and non-committal term ‘ Seriation.’ 

The comparison of the seriation of living species and genera to the 
seriation of a succession of extinct forms as revealed by fossils was, 
it seems, first definitely made by Cope, who in 1866 held the zoological 
regions of to-day to be related to one another ‘as the different sub- 
divisions of a geologic period in time’ (Journ. Acad. Nat. Sct. Phila- 
delphia, 1866, p. 108). This comparison is of great importance. Had 
we the seriations of living forms alone, we might often be in doubt 
as to the meaning of the phenomenon. In the first place we might 
ascribe it purely to climatic and similar environmental influence, and 
we should be unable to prove genetic filiation between the species. 
Even if descent were assumed we should not know which end of the 
series was ancestral, or even whether the starting point might not 
be near the middle. But when the palaeontologist can show the same, 
or even analogous, seriation in a time-succession, he indicates to the 
neontologist the solution of his problem. 

Here it is well to remind ourselves that all seriations are not exact. 
There are seriations of organs or of isolated characters, and the trans- 
ition has not always taken place at the same rate. Hence numerous 
examples of what Cope called Inexact Parallelism. The recognition of 
such cases is largely responsible for the multiplication of genera by some 
modern palaeontologists. This may or may not be the best way of 
expressing the facts, but it is desirable that they should be plainly 
expressed or we shall be unable to delineate the actual lines of genetic 

Restricting ourselves to series in which descent may be considered 
as proved or highly probable, such as the Micrasters of the Chalk, we 
find then a definite seriation. There is not merely transition, but trans- 
ition in orderly sequence such as can be represented by a graphic curve 
of simple form. If there are gaps in the series as known to us, we can 
safely predict their discovery ; and we can prolong the curve backwards 
or forwards, so as to reveal the nature of ancestors or descendants. 

Orthogenesis: Determinate Variation. 

The regular, straightforward character of such seriation led Eimer 
to coin the term Orthogenesis for the phenomenon as a whole. If this 
term be taken as purely descriptive, it serves well enough to denote 
certain facts. But Orthogenesis, in the minds of most people, connotes 
the idea of necessity, of determinate variation, and of predetermined 
course. Now, just as you may have succession without evolution, so 
you may have seriation without determination or predetermination. 


Let us be clear as to the meaning of these terms. | Variation is 
said to be determinate, or, as Darwin called it, ‘ definite,’ when all the 
offspring vary in the same direction. Such definite variation may be 
determined by a change in the composition of the germ, due perhaps 
to some external influence acting on all the parents; or it may express 
the direct action of an external influence on the growing offspring. The 
essential feature is that all the changes are of the same kind, though 
they may differ in degree. For instance, all may consist in some addi- 
tion, as a thickening of skeletal structures, an outgrowth of spines or 
horns; or all may consist in some loss, as the smaller size of outer 
digits, the diminution of tubercles, or the disappearance of feathers. 
A succession of such determinate variations for several generations pro- 
duces seriation ; and when the seriation is in a plus direction it is called 
progressive (anabatic, anagenetic), when in a minus direction, retro- 
gressive (catabatic, catagenetic). When successive additions appear 
late in the life-cycle, each one as it were pushing its predecessors back 
to earlier stages, then we use Cope’s phrase—acceleration of develop- 
ment. When subtraction occurs in the same way, there is retardation 
of development. Now it is clear that if a single individual or genera- 
tion produces offspring with, say, plus variations differing in degree, 
then the new generation will display seriation. Instances of this are 
well known. You may draw from them what inferences you please, 
but you cannot actually prove that there is progression. Breeding- 
experiments under natural conditions for a long series of years would 
be required for such proof. Here, again, the palaeontologist can point 
to the records of the process throughout centuries or millennia, and 
can show that there has been undoubted progression and retrogression. 
I do not mean to assert that the examples of progressive and retrogres- 
sive series found among fossils are necessarily due to the seriation of 
determinate variations ; but the instances of determinate variation known 
among the creatures now living show the palaeontologist a method that 
may have helped to produce his series. Once more the observations of 
neontologist and palaeontologist are mutually complementary. 


So much for determination: now for Predetermination. This is a 
far more difficult problem, discussed when the fallen angels 

* reasoned high 
Of providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate, 
Fixed fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute, 
And found no end in wandering mazes lost.’ 

—and it is likely to be discussed so long as a reasoning mind persists. 
For all that, it is a problem on which many palaeontologists seem to 
have made up their minds. They agree (perhaps unwittingly) with 
Aristotle * that ‘Nature produces those things which, being con- 

* pioer yap [ylvovra] boa ad Tivos ev abtois dpxiis ouvexas kwotmeva aikverra 
els tt TéAos. Phys, Il., 199b, 15, ed. Bekker. 

C.— GEOLOGY. "5 

tinuously moved by a certain principle inherent in themselves, arrive 
at a certain end.’ In other words, a race once started on a certain 
course, will persist in that course; no matter how conditions may 
change, no matter how hurtful to the individual its own changes 
may be, progressive or retrogressive, up hill and down hill, straight 
as a Roman road, it will go on to that appointed end. Nor is 
it only palaeontologists who think thus. Professor Duerden has 
recently written, ‘The Nagelian idea that evolutionary changes have 
taken place as a result of some internal vitalistic force, acting altogether 
independently of external influences, and proceeding along definite lines, 
irrespective of adaptive considerations, seems to be gaining ground at 
the present time among biologists ’ (1919, Journ, Genetics, vii. p. 193). 

The idea is a taking one, but is it really warranted by the facts at our 
disposal? We have seen, I repeat, that succession does not imply 
evolution, and (granting evolution) I have claimed that seriation can 
occur without determinate variation and without predetermination. It 
is easy to see this in the case of inanimate objects subjected to a con- 
trolling foree. The fossil-collector who passes his material through a 
series of sieves, picking out first the larger shells, then the smaller, 
and finally the microscopic foraminifera, induces a seriation in size by 
an action which may be compared to the selective action of successive 
environments. ‘There is, in this case, predetermination imposed by an 
external mind; but there is no determinate variation. You may see in 
the museum at Leicester a series beginning with the via strata of the 
Roman occupants of Britain, and passing through all stages of the 
tramway up to the engineered modern railroad. The unity and 
apparent inevitability of the series conjures up the vision of a world- 
mind consciously working to a foreseen end. An occasional experiment 
along some other line has not been enough to obscure the general trend ; 
indeed, the speedy scrapping of such failures only emphasises the idea 
of a determined plan. But closer consideration shows that the course 
of the development was guided simply by the laws of mechanics and 
economies, and by the history of discovery in other branches of science. 
That alone was the nature of the determination; and predetermination, 
there was none. From these instances we see that selection can, indeed 
must, produce just that evolution along definite lines which is the 
supposed feature of orthogenesis. 

The arguments for orthogenesis are reduced to two: first, the diff- 
culty of accounting for the incipient stages of new structures before 
they achieve selective value; second, the supposed cases of non-adaptive 
or even—as one may term it—counter-adaptive growth. 

The earliest discernible stage of an entirely new character in an 
adaptive direction is called by H. F. Osborn a ‘ rectigradation ’ (1907), 
and the term implies that the character will proceed to develop in a 
definite direction. As compared with changes of proportion in exist- 
ing characters (‘ allometron,’ Osborn), rectigradations are rare. Osborn 
applies the term to the first signs of folding of the enamel in the teeth 
of the horse. Another of his favourite instances is the genesis of horns 
in the Titanotheres, which he has summarised as follows: ‘ (a) from 
excessively rudimentary beginnings, i.e. rectigradations, which can 


hardly be detected on the surface of the skull; (b) there is some pre- 
determining law or similarity of potential which governs their first 
existence, because (c) the rudiments arise independently on the same 
part of the skull in different phyla [i.e. lineages] at different periods of 
geologic time; (d) the horn rudiments evolve continuously, and they 
gradually change in form (i.e. allometrons) ; (e) they finally become the 
dominating characters of the skull, showing marked variations of the 
form in the two sexes; (f) they first appear in late or adult stages of 
ontogeny, but are pushed forward gradually into earlier and earlier 
ontogenetic stages until they appear to arise prenatally.’ 

Osborn says that rectigradations are a result of the principle of 
determination, but this does not seem necessary. In the first place, 
the precise distinction between an allometron and a rectigradation fades 
away on closer scrutiny. When the rudiment of a cusp or a horn 
changes its form, the change is an allometron; the first swelling is a 
rectigradation. But both of these are changes in the form of a pre- 
existing structure; there is no fundamental difference between a bone 
with an equable curve and one with a slight irregularity of surface. 
Why may not the original modification be due to the same cause as the 
succeeding ones? The development of a horn in mammalia is prob- 
ably a response to some rubbing or butting action which produces 
changes first in the hair and epidermis. One requires stronger evidence 
than has yet been adduced to suppose that in this case form precedes 
function. As Jaekel has insisted, skeletal formation follows the changes 
in the softer tissues as they respond to strains and stresses. In the 
evolution of the Echinoid skeleton, any new structures that appear, 
such as auricles for the attachment of jaw-muscles or notches for the 
reception of external gills, have at their inception all the character of 
rectigradations, but it can scarcely be doubted that they followed the 
growth of their correlated soft parts, and that these latter were already 
subject to natural selection. But we may go further: in vertebrates 
as in echinoderms the bony substance is interpenetrated with living 
matter, which renders it directly responsive to every mechanical force, 
and modifies it as required by deposition or resorption, so that the 
skeleton tends continually to a correlation of all its parts and an adapta- 
tion to outer needs. 

The fact that similar structures are developed in the same positions 
in different stocks at different periods of time is paralleled in probably all 
classes of animals; Ammonites, Brachiopods, Polyzoa, Crinoids, Sea- 
urchins present familiar instances. But do we want to make any 
mystery of it? The words ‘predisposition,’ ‘ predetermining law,’ 
‘similarity of potential,’ ‘inhibited potentiality,’ and ‘ periodicity,’ all 
tend to obscure the simple statement that like causes acting on like 
material produce like effects. When other causes operate, the result is 
different. Certainly such facts afford no evidence of predetermination, 
in the sense that the development must take place willy-nilly. Quite 
the contrary: they suggest that it takes place only under the influence 
of the necessary causes. Nor do they warrant such false analogies as 
‘ Environment presses the button: the animal does the rest.’ 

The resemblance of the cuttle-fish eye to that of a vertebrate has 


C.— GEOLOGY. i7 

been explained by the assumption that both creatures are descended, 
longo intervallo no doubt, from a common stock, and that the flesh or 
the germ of that stock had the internal impulse to produce this kind of 
eye some day when conditions should be favourable. It is not ex- 
plained why many other eyed animals, which must also have descended 
from this remote stock, have developed eyes of a different kind. Never- 
theless I commend this hypothesis of Professor Bergson to the advo- 
eates of predisposition. To my mind it only shows that a philosopher 
may achieve distinction by a theory of evolution without a secure know- 
ledge of biology. 

When the same stock follows two quite different paths to the same 
goal, it is impossible to speak of a predetermined course. In the Wen- 
lock beds is a crinoid whose stalk has become flattened and coiled, and 
the cirri or tendrils of the stalk are no longer set by fives all round it, 
but are reduced to two rows, one along each side. In one species these 
cirri are spaced at irregular intervals along the two sides, but as the 
animal grows there is a tendency for them to become more closely set. In 
another species, in various respects more developed, the cirri are set quite 
close together, and the tightly coiled stalk looks like a ribbed ammonite. 
Closer inspection shows that this species includes two distinct forms. 
In one each segment of the stalk bears but a single cirrus, first on the 
right, then on the left; but the segments taper off to the opposite side so 
that the cirri are brought close together. In the other form two cirri 
are borne by a single segment, but the next segment bears no cirri. 
These intervening segments taper to each side, so that here also the 
cirri are brought close together. Thus the same appearance and the 
same physiological effect are produced in two distinct ways. Had one 
ofthese never existed, the evolution of this curious stem would have 
offered as good an argument for orthogenesis as many that have been 
advanced. So much for similarity ! 

The argument for orthogenesis based on a race-history that marches 
to inevitable destruction, heedless of environmental factors, has always 
seemed to me incontrovertible, and so long as my knowledge of 
palaeontology was derived mainly from books I accepted this premiss 
as well founded. Greater familiarity with particular groups has led 
me to doubt whether such cases really occur, for more intensive study 
generally shows that characters at first regarded as indifferent or 
detrimental may have been adapted to some factor in the environment 
or some peculiar mode of life. 

Professor Duerden’s jnteresting and valuable studies of the ostrich 
(1919, 1920, Journ. Genetics) lead him to the opinion that retrogressive 
changes in that bird are destined to continue, and ‘ we may look for- 
ward,’ he says, ‘ to the sad spectacle of a wingless, legless, and feather- 
less ostrich if extinction does not supervene.’ Were this so we might 
at least console ourselves with the thought that the process is a very 
slow one, for Dr. Andrews tells me that the feet and other known 
bones of a Pliocene ostrich are scarcely distinguishable from those of 
the present species. But, after careful examination of Dr. Duerden’s 
arguments, I see no ground for supposing that the changes are other 
than. adaptive. Similar changes.occur in other birds of other stocks 


when subjected to the requisite conditions, as the flightless birds of 
diverse origin found on ocean islands, the flightless and running rails, 
geese, and other races of New Zealand, the Pleistocene Genyornis of 
the dried Lake Callabonna, which, as desert conditions came on, began 
to show a reduction of the inner toe. Among mammals the legs and 
feet have been modified in the same way in at least three distinct 
orders or suborders, during different periods, and in widely separated 
regions, Living marsupials in Australia have the feet modified accord- 
ing to their mode of life, whether climbing on trees or running over 
hard ground; and among the latter we find a series indicating how 
the outer toes were gradually lost and the fourth digit enlarged. 1 
need scarcely remind you of the modifications that resulted in the 
horse’s hoof with its enlarged third digit, traceable during the Tertiary 
Epoch throughout the Northern Hemisphere, whether in one or more 
than one stock. I would, however, recall the fact that occasional 
races, resuming from time to time a forest habitat, ceased to progress 
along the main line. Lastly, there are those early hoofed animals 
from South America, made known by Ameghino under the name 
Litopterna, which underwent a parallel series of changes and attained 
in Thoatherium from the Upper Miocene of Patagonia a one-toed foot 
with elongate metacarpals essentially similar to that of the horse. In 
all these cases the correlation of foot-structure with mode of life (as 
also indicated by the teeth) is such that adaptation by selection has 
always been regarded as the sole effective cause. 

My colleague, Dr. W. D. Lang, has recently published a most 
thoughtful paper on this subject (1919, Proc. Geol. Assoc. xxx. 102). 
His profound studies on certain lineages of Cretaceous Polyzoa 
(Cheilostomata) have led him to believe that the habit of secreting 
calcium carbonate, when once adopted, persists in an increasing degree. 
Thus in lineage after lineage the habit ‘has led to a brilliant but 
comparatively brief career of skeleton-building, and has doomed the 
organism finally to evolve but the architecture of its tomb.’ These 
creatures, like all others which secrete calcium carbonate, are simply 
suffering from a gouty diathesis, to which each race will eventually 
succumb. Meanwhile the organism does its best to dispose of the 
secretion ; if usefully, so much the better; but at any rate where it 
will be least in the way. Some primitive polyzoa, we are told, often 
sealed themselves up; others escaped this self-immurement by turning 
the excess into spines, which in yet other forms fused into a front 
wall. But the most successful architects were overwhelmed at last 
by superabundance of building-material. 

_.__ While sympathetic to Dr. Lang’s diagnosis of the disease (for in 
1888 I hazarded the view that in Cephalopoda lime-deposition was 
uncontrollable by the animal, and that its extent was inversely relative 
to the rate of formation of chitin or other calcifiable tissue), still I 
think he goes too far in postulating an ‘insistent tendency.’ He 
speaks of living matter as if it were the over-pumped inner-tube of 
a bicycle tyre, ‘tense with potentiality, curbed by inhibitions’ fof 
the cover] and ‘ periodically breaking out as inhibitions are removed ’ 
{by broken glass]. A race acquires the lime habit or the drink habit, 

0.—GEOLOGY, 79 

and, casting off all restraint, rushes with accelerated velocity down 
the easy slope to perdition. 

A melancholy picture! But is it true? The facts in the case of 
the Cretaceous Polyzoa are not disputed, but they can be’ interpreted 
as a reaction of the organism to the continued abundance of lime-salts 
in the sea-water. If a race became choked off with lime, this perhaps 
was because it could not keep pace with its environment. Instead of 
‘irresistible momentum’ from within, we may speak of irresistible 
pressure from without. Dr. Lang has told us (1919, Phil. Trans. 
B. ecix.) ‘that in their evolution the individual characters in a 
lineage are largely independent of one another.’ It is this independ- 
ence, manifested in differing trends and differing rates of change, that 
originates genera and species. Did the evolution follow some inner 
impulse, along lines ‘ predetermined and limited by innate causes,’ 
one would expect greater similarity, if not identity, of pattern and 
of tempo. 

Many are the races which, seeking only ornament, have (say our 
historians) perished like Tarpeia beneath the weight of a less welcome 
cift: oysters, ammonites, hippurites, crinoids, and corals. But I see 
no reason to suppose that these creatures were ill-adapted to their 
erivironment—until the situation changed. This is but a special case 
of increase in size. In creatures of the land probably, and in creatures 
of the water certainly (as exemplified by A. D. Mead’s experiments 
on the starfish, 1900, Amer. Natural. xxxiv. 17), size depends on 
the amount of food, including all body- and skeleton-building con- 
stituents. When food is plentiful larger animals have an advantage 
over small. Thus by natural selection the race increases in size until 
a balance is reached. Then a fall in the food-supply handicaps the 
larger creatures, which may become extinct. So simple an explana- 
tion renders it quite unnecessary to regard size as in itself indicating 
the old age of the race. 

Among the structures that have been most frequently assigned to 
some blind growth-force are spines or horns, and when they assume 
a grotesque form or disproportionate size they are dismissed as evidences 
of senility. Let us take a case. 

The Trilobite family Lichadidae is represented in Ordovician and 
Silurian rocks by species with no or few spines, but in the early 
part of the Devonian, both in America and in Europe, various unrelated 
groups in this family begin to grow similarly formed and situated 
spines, at first short and straight, but soon becoming long curved horns, 
until the climax is reached in such a troll-like goat-form as Ceratarges 
armatus of the Calceola-beds in the Hifel. 

Dr. J. M. Clarke (1913, Monogr. Serv. Geol. Brazil, i. p. 142) 
is among those who have regarded this parallel development as a sign 
of orthogenesis in the most mystical meaning of the term. Strange 
though these little monsters may be, I cannot, in view of their con- 
siderable abundance, believe that their specialisation was of no use 
to them, and I am prepared to accept the following interpretation by 
Dr. Rudolf Richter (1919, 1920). 

Such spines haye their first origin in the tubercles which form so 


common an ornament in Crustacea and other Arthropods and which 
serve to stiffen the carapace. A very slight projection of any of these 
tubercles further acts as a protection against such soft-bodied enemies 
as jelly-fish. Longer out-growths enlarge the body of the trilobite in 
such a way as to prevent its being easily swallowed. When, as is 
often the case, the spines stretch over such organs as the eyes, their 
protective function is obvious. This becomes still more clear when 
we consider the relation of these spines to the body when rolled up, 
for then they are seen to form an encircling or enveloping chevauz- 
de-frise. But besides this, the spines in many cases serve as balancers ; 
they throw the centre of gravity back from the weighty head, and 
thus enable the creature to rise into a swimming posture. Further, 
by their friction, they help to keep the animal suspended in still water 
with a comparatively slight motion of its numerous oar-like limbs. 
Regarded in this light, even the most extravagant spines lose their 
mystery and appear as consequences of natural selection. A com- 
parison of the curious Marrella in the pelagic or still-water fauna 
of the Middle Cambrian Burgess shale with Acidaspis radiata of the 
Calceola-beds certainly suggests that both of these forms were adapted 
to a similar life in a similar environment. 

The fact that many extreme developments are followed by the 
extinction of the race is due to the difficulty that any specialised organism 
or machine finds in adapting itself to new conditions. A highly 
specialised creature is one adapted to quite peculiar circumstances; 
very slight external change may put it out of harmony, especially if the 
change be sudden. It is not necessary to imagine any decline of vital 
force or exhaustion of potentiality. 

When people talk of certain creatures, living or extinct, as obviously 
unadapted for the struggle of life, I am reminded of Sir Henry de Ja 
Beche’s drawing of a lecture on the human skull by Professor 
Ichthyosaurus. ‘ You will at once perceive,’ said the lecturer, ‘ that 
the skull before us belonged to one of the lower orders of animals; 
the teeth are very insignificant, the power of the jaws trifling; and 
altogether it seems wonderful how the creature could have procured 

What, then, is the meaning of ‘momentum’ jn evolution? Simply 
this, that change, whatever its cause, must be a change of something 
that already exists. The changes in evolving lineages are, as a rule, 
orderly and continuous (to avoid argument the term may for the 
moment include minute saltations). Environment changes slowly and 
the response of the organism always lags behind it, taking small heed 
of ephemeral variations.” Suppose a change from shallow to deep water 

2 The conception of dag in evolution is of some importance. On a hypothesis 
of selection from fortuitous variations the lag must be considerable. If the 
variations be determinate and in the direction of the environmental change, the 
lag will be reduced; but according as the determination departs from the 
environmental change, the lag will increase. If a change of environment acts on 
the germ, inducing either greater variation or variation in harmony with the 
change, there will still be lag, but it will be less. On this hypothesis the lag 
will depend on the mechanism through which the environment affects the germ. 
If, with Osborn, we imagine an action on the body, transmitted to the various 


—either by sinking of the sea-floor or by migration of the organism. 
Creatures already capable of becoming acclimatised will be the majority 
of survivors, and among them those which change most rapidly will 
soon dominate. Place your successive forms in order, and you will get 
the appearance of momentum; but the reality is inertia yielding with 
more or less rapidity to an outer force. 

Sometimes a change is exhibited to a greater or less extent by every 
member of some limited group of animals, and this change may seem 
to be correlated with the conditions of life in only a few of the genera 
or species, while in others it manifests no adaptive character and no 
selective value. Thus the loss of the toes or even limbs in certain 
lizards is ascribed by Dr. G. A. Boulenger to an internal tendency, 
although, at any rate in the Skinks, which furnish examples of all stages 
of loss, it certainly seems connected with a sand-loving and burrowing 
life. Recently Dr. Boulenger (1920, Bull. Soc. Zool. France, xlv. 
68) has put forward the East African Testudo loveridgei, a ribless 
tortoise with soft shell that squeezes into holes under rocks, and swells 
again like an egg in a bottle, as the final stage of a regressive series. 
The early stages of this regression, such as a decrease in size of the 
vertebral processes and rib-heads, were long since noticed by him in 
other members of the same family; but, since they did not occur in 
other families, and since he could perceive no adaptive value in them, 
he regarded them as inexplicable, until this latest discovery proved them 
to be prophetic of a predestined goal. The slightness of my acquaint- 
ance with tortoises forbids me to controvert this supreme example of 
teleology as it appears to so distinguished an authority. But in all 
these apparent instances we should do well to realise that we are still 
incompletely informed about the daily life of these creatures and of 
their ancestors in all stages of growth, and we may remember that 
structures once adaptive often persist after the need has passed or 
has been replaced by one acting in a different direction. 

The Study of Adaptive Form. 

This leads us on to consider a fruitful field of research, which would 
at first seem the natural preserve of neontologists, but which, as it 
happens, has of late been cultivated mainly to supply the needs of 
palaeontology. That field is the influence of the mode of life on the 
shape of the creature, or briefly, of function on form; and, conversely, 
the indications that form can give as to habits and habitat. For many 
a long year the relatively simple mechanics of the vertebrate skeleton 
have been studied by palaeontologists and anatomists generally, and 
have been brought into discussions on the effect of use. The investiga- 
tion of the mechanical conditions controlling the growth of organisms has 
recently been raised to a higher plane by Professor D’Arcy Thompson’s 

parts through catalysera and hormones, then the process will involve lag varying 
with the physico-chemical constitution of the organism. Slight differences in 
this respect between different races may have some bearing on the rate of 
change (vide infra ‘The Tempo of Evolution’), on the correlation of characters, 
and so on the diversity of form. 

1920 q 


suggestive book on ‘ Growth and Form.’ These studies, however, 
have usually considered the structure of an animal as an isolated 
machine, We have to realise that an organism should be studied in 
relation to the whole of its environment, and here form comes in as 
distinct from structure. That mode of expression, though loose and 
purely relative, will be generally understood. By ‘form’ one means 
those adaptations to the surrounding medium, to food, to the mode of 
motion, and so forth, which may vary with outer conditions while the 
fundamental structure persists. Though all structures may, conceiy- 
ably, have originated as such adaptations, those which we call ‘ form’ 
are, as a rule, of later origin. Similar. adaptive forms are found in 
organisms of diverse structure, and produce those similarities which we 
know as ‘ convergence.’ To take but one simple instance from the 
relations of organisms to gravity. A stalked echinoderm naturally 
grows upright, like a flower, with radiate symmetry. But in the late 
Ordovician and in Silurian rocks are many in which the body has a 
curiously flattened leaf-like shape, in which the two faces are distinct, 
but the two sides alike, and in which this effect is often enhanced by 
paired outgrowths corresponding in shape if not in structure. Expan- 
sion of this kind implies a position parallel to the earth’s surface, .7.e. 
at right angles to gravity. The leaf-like form and the balancers are 
adaptations to this unusual position. Recognition of this enables us to 
interpret the peculiar features of each genus, to separate the adaptive 
form from the modified structure, and to perceive that many genera 
outwaraly similar are really of quite different origin. 

Until we understand the principles governing these and other adapta- 
tions—irrespective of the systematic position of the creatures in which 
they appear—we cannot make adequate reconstructions of our fossils, 
we cannot draw correct inferences as to their mode of life, and we cannot 
distinguish the adaptive from the fundamental characters. No doubt 
many of us, whether palaeontologists or neontologists, have long recog- 
nised the truth in a general way, and have attempted to describe our 
material—whether in stone or in aleohol—as living creatures; and not 
as isolated specimens but as integral portions of a mobile world. It is, 
however, chiefly to Louis Dollo that we owe the suggestion and the 
example of approaching animals primarily from the side of the environ- 
ment, and of studying adaptations as such. The analysis of adaptations 
in those casés where the stimulus can be recognised and correlated with 
its reaction (as in progression through different media or over different 
surfaces) affords sure ground for inferences concerning similar forms of 
whose life-conditions we are ignorant. Thus Othenio Abel (1916) has 
analysed the evidence as to the living squids and cuttle-fish and has 
applied it to the belemnites and allied fossils with novel and interesting 
results. But from such analyses there have been drawn wider con- 
clusions pointing to further extension of the study. It was soon seen 
that adaptations did not come to perfection all at once, but that har- 
monisation was gradual, and that some species had progressed further 
than others. But it by no means follows that these represent chains of 
descent. The adaptations of all the organs must be considered, and one 
seriation checked by another. Thus in 1890, in sketching the probable 

0.— GEOLOGY. 83 

history of certain crinoids, I pointed out that the seriation due to the 
migration of the anal plates must be checked by the seriation due to the 
elaboration of arm-structure, and so on. . 

In applying these principles we are greatly helped by Dollo’s thesis 
of the Irreversibility of Evolution. It is not necessary to regard this as 
an absolute Law, subject to no conceivable exception. It is a simple 
statement of the facts as hitherto observed, and may be expressed 

1. In the course of race-history an organism never returns exactly 
to its former state, even if placed in conditions of existence identical with 
those through which it has previously passed. Thus, if through adap- 
tation to a new mode of life (as from walking to climbing) a race loses 
organs which were highly useful to it in the former state, then, if it ever 
reverts to that former mode of life (as from climbing to walking), those 
organs never return, but other organs are modified to take their place. 

2. But (continues the Law), by virtue of the indestructibility of the 
past, the organism always preserves some trace of the intermediate 
stages. Thus, when a race reverts to its former state, there remain the 
traces of those modifications which its organs underwent while it was 
pursuing another mode of existence. 

The first statement imposes a veto on any speculations as to descent 
that involve the reappearance of a vanished structure. It does not 
interfere with the cases in which old age seems to repeat the characters 
of youth, as in Ammonites, for here the old-age character may be 
similar, but obviously is not the same. The second statement furnishes 
a guide to the mode of life of the immediate ancestors, and is applicable 
to living as well as to fossil forms. It is from such persistent adaptive 
characters that some have inferred the arboreal nature of our own 
ancestors, or even of the ancestors of all mammals. ‘To take but a 
single point, Dr. W. D. Matthew (1904, Amer. Natural. xxxyiil. 
813) finds traces of a former opposable thumb in several early Eocene 
mammals, and features dependent on this in the same digit of all 
mammals where it is now fixed, 

The Study of Habitat. 

The natural history of marine invertebrata is of particular interest 
to the geologist, but its study presents peculiar difficulties. The marine 
zoologist has long recognised that his early efforts with trawl and dredge 
threw little light on the depth in the sea frequented by his captures. The 
surface floaters, the swimmers of the middle and lower depths, and the 
crawlers on the bottom were confused in a single haul, and he has 
therefore devised means for exploring each region separately. The 
geologist, however, finds all these faunas mixed in a single deposit. 
He may even find with them the winged creatures of the air, as in the 
insect beds of Gurnet Bay, or the remains of estuarine and land animals. 

Such mixtures are generally found in rocks that seem to have been 
deposited in quiet land-locked bays. Thus in a Silurian rock near 
Visby, Gotland, have been found creatures of such diverse habitat as 
a scorpion, a possibly estuarine Pterygotus, a large barnacle, and a 
_ erinoid of the delicate form usually associated with clear deep water. 
a 2 


The lagoons of Solenhofen have preserved a strange mixture of land and 
sea life, without a trace of fresh or brackish water forms. Archae- 
opteryx, insects, flying reptiles, and creeping reptiles represent the air 
and land fauna; jelly-fish and the crinoid Saccocoma are true open- 
water wanderers; sponges and stalked crinoids were sessile on the 
bottom; starfish, sea-urchins, and worms crawled on the sea-floor ; 
king-crabs, lobsters, and worms left their tracks on mud-flats ; cephalo- 
pods swam at various depths; fishes ranged from the bottom mud to the 
surface waters. The Upper Ordovician Starfish bed of Girvan contains 
not only the crawling and wriggling creatures from which it takes its 
name, but stalked echinoderms adapted to most varied modes of life, 
swimming and creeping trilobites, and indeed representatives of almost 
all marine levels. 

In the study of such assemblages we have to distinguish palieen 
the places of birth, of life, of death, and of burial, since, though these 
may all be the same, they may also be different. The echinoderms 
of the Starfish bed further suggest that closer discrimination is needed 
between the diverse habitats of bottom forms. Some of these were, I 
believe, attached to sea-weed; others grew up on stalks above the 
bottom ; others clung to shells or stones; others lay on the top of the 
sea-floor ; others were partly buried beneath its muddy sand; others may 
have grovelled beneath it, connected with the overlying water by 
passages. Here we shall be greatly helped by the investigations of 
C. G. J. Petersen and his fellow-workers of the Danish Biological 
Station. (See especially his summary, ‘The Sea Bottom and its 
Production of Fish Food,’ Copenhagen, 1918.) They have set an 
example of intensive study which needs to be followed elsewhere. By 
bringing up slabs of the actual bottom, they have shown that, even in 
a small area, many diverse habitats, each with its peculiar fauna, may 
be found, one superimposed on the other. Thanks to Petersen and 
similar investigators, exact comparison can now take the place of in- 
genious speculation. And that this research is not merely fascinating 
in itself, but illuminatory of wider questions, follows from the con- 
sideration that analysis of faunas and their modes of life must be a 
necessary preliminary to the study of migrations and geographical 

The Tempo of Evolution. 

We have not yet done with the results that may flow from an analysis 
of adaptations. Among the many facts which, when considered from 
the side of animal structure alone, lead to transcendental theories with 
Greek names, there is the observation that the relative rate of evolution 
is very different in races living at the same time. Since their remains 
are found often side by side, it is assumed that they were subject to the 
same conditions, and that the differences of speed must be due to a 
difference of internal motive force. After what has just been said you 
will at once detect the fallacy in this assumption. Professor Abel has 
recently maintained that the varying tempo of evolution depends on the 
changes in outer conditions. He compares the evolution of whales, 
sirenians, and horses during the Tertiary Epoch, and correlates it with 

0.—a@koLoey. 85 

the nature of the food. Roughly to summarise, he points out that 
from the Eocene onwards the sirenians underwent a steady, slow change, 
because, though they migrated from land to sea, they retained their 
habit of feeding on the soft water-plants. The horses, though they 
remained on land, display an evolution at first rather quick, then 
slower, but down to Pliocene times always quicker than that of the 
sirenians ; and this is correlated with their change into eaters of grain, 
and their adaptation to the plains which furnish such food. The whales, 
like the sirenians, migrated at the beginning of the Tertiary from land to 
sea; but how different is their rate of evolution, and into what diverse 
forms have they diverged! At first they remained near the coasts, keep- 
ing to the ancestral diet, and, like the sirenians, changing but slowly. 
But the whales were flesh-eaters, and soon they took to hunting fish, and 
then to eating large and small cephalopods; hence from the Oligocene 
onwards the change was very quick, and in Miocene times the evolution 
was almost tempestuous. Finally, many whales turned to the swallow- 
ing of minute floating organisms, and from Lower Pliocene times, 
having apparently exhausted the possibilities of ocean provender, they 
changed with remarkable slowness. 

Whether such changes of food or of other habits of life are, in a 
sense, spontaneous, or whether they are forced on the creatures by 
changes of climate and other conditions, makes no difference to the 
facts that the changes of form are a reaction to the stimuli of the outer 
world, and that the rate of evolution depends on those outer changes. 

Whether we have to deal with similar changes of form taking place 
at different times or in different places, or with diverse changes affect- 
ing the same or similar stocks at the same time and place, we can see 
the possibility that all are adaptations to a changing environment. 
There is then reason for thinking that ignorance alone leads us to assume 
some inexplicable force urging the races this way or that, to so-called 
advance or to apparent degeneration, to life or to death. 

The Rhythm of Life. 

The comparison of the life of a lineage to that of an individual is, 
up to a point, true and illuminating; but when a lineage first starts on 
its independent course (which really means that some individuals of a 
pre-existing stock enter a new field), then I see no reason to predict 
that it will necessarily pass through periods of youth, maturity, and 
old age, that it will increase to an acme of numbers, of variety, or of 
specialisation, and then decline through a second childhood to ultimate 
extinction. Still less can we say that, as the individuals of a species 
have their allotted span of time, long or short, so the species or the 
lineage has its predestined term. The exceptions to those assertions 
are indeed recognised by the supporters of such views, and they are 
explained in terms of rejuvenescence, rhythmic cycles, or a grand 
despairing outburst before death. This phraseology is delightful as 
metaphor, and the conceptions have had their value in promoting search 
for confirmatory or contradictory evidence. But do they lead to any 
broad and fructifying principle? When one analyses is per- 
petually brought up against some transcendental assumption, some 


unknown entelechy that starts and controls the machine, but must for 
eyer evade the methods of our science. 

The facts of recurrence, of rhythm, of rise and fall, of marvellous 
efflorescences, of gradual decline, or of sudden disappearances, all are 
incontestable. But if we accept the intimate relation of organism and 
environment, we shall surmise that on a planet with such a geological 
history as ours, with its recurrence of similar physical changes, the 
phenomena of life must reflect the great rhythmic waves that have 
uplifted the mountains and lowered the deeps, no less than every 
smaller wave and ripple that has from age to age diversified and 
enlivened the face of our restless mother. 

To correlate the succession of living forms with all these changes 
is the task of the palaeontologist. To attempt it he will need the aid of 
every kind of biologist, every kind of geologist. But this attempt is not 
in its nature impossible, and each advance to the ultimate goal will, 
in the future as in the past, provide both geologist and biologist with 
new light on their particular problems. | When the correlation shall 
have been completed, our geological systems and epochs will no longer 
be defined by gaps in our knowledge, but will be the true expression 
of the actual rhythm of evolution. Lyell’s great postulate of the uni- 
form action of nature is still our guide; but we have ceased to confound 
uniformity with monotony. We return, though with a difference, to 
the conceptions of Cuvier, to those numerous and _ relatively sudden 
revolutions of the surface of the globe which have produced the corre- 
sponding dynasties in its succession of inhabitants. 

The Future. 

The work of a systematic palaeontologist, especially of one dealing 
with rare and obscure fossils, often seems remote from the thought and 
practice of modern science. I have tried to show that it is not really 
so. But still it may appear to some to have no contact with the urgent 
problems of the world outside. That also is an error. Whether the 
views I have criticised or those I have supported are the correct ones is 
a matter of practical importance. If we are to accept the principle of 
predetermination, or of blind growth-force, we must accept also a 
check on our efforts to improve breeds, including those of man, by any 
other means than crossings and elimination of unfit strains. In spite 
of all that we may do in this way, there remain those decadent races, 
whether of ostriches or human beings, which ‘ await alike the inevit- 
able hour.’ If, on the other hand, we adopt the view that the life- 
history of races is a response to their environment, then it follows, 
no doubt, that the past history of liying creatures will have been deter- 
mined by conditions outside their control, it follows that the idea of 
human progress as a biological law ceases to be tenable; but, since man 
has the power of altering his environment and of adapting racial 
characters through conscious selection, it also follows that progress will 
not of necessity be followed by decadence; rather that, by aiming at a 
high mark, by deepening our knowledge of ourselyes and of our world, 
and by controlling our energy and guiding our efforts in the light of 
that knowledge, we may prolong and hasten our ascent to ages and to 
heights as yet beyond prophetic vision. 




Professor J. STANLEY GARDINER, M.A., F.RB.S., 


Where do we stand? 

Tue public has the right to consider and pass judgment on all that 
affects its civilisation and advancement, and both of these largely 
depend on the position and advance of science. I ask its consideration 
of the science of Zoology, whether or not it justifies its existence as 
such, and, if it does, what are its needs? It is at the parting of the 
ways. It either has to justify itself as a science or be altogether starved 
out by the new-found enthusiasm for chemistry and physics, due to the 
belief in their immediate application to industries. 

It is a truism to point out that the recent developments in chemistry 
and physics depend, in the main, on the researches of men whose 
names are scarcely known to the public: this is equally true for all 
sciences. A list of past Presidents of the Royal Society conveys 
nothing to the public compared with a list of Captains of Industry who, 
to do them justice, are the first to recognise that they owe their position 
and wealth to these scientists. These men of science are unknown to 
the public, not on account of the smallness of their discoveries, but 
rather on account of their magnitude, which makes them meaningless 
to the mass. 

Great as have been the results in physical sciences applied to 
industry, the study of animal life can claim discoveries just as great. 
Their greatest value, however, lies not in the production of wealth, but 
rather in their broad applicability to human life. Man ig an animal and 
he is subject to the same laws as other animals. He learns by the 
experience of his forebears, but he learns, also, by the consideration of 
other animals in relationship to their fellows and to the world at large: 
The whole idea of evolution, for instance, is of indescribable value; it 
permeates all life to-day ; and yet Charles Darwin, whose researches did 
more than any others to establish its facts, is too often only known to 
the public as ‘the man who said we came from monkeys.’ 


Whilst first and foremost I would base my claim for the study of 
animal life on this consideration, we cannot neglect the help it has given 
to the physical welfare of man’s body. It is not out of place to draw 
attention to the manner in which pure zoological science has worked 
hand in hand with the science of medicine. Harvey’s experimental 
discovery of the circulation of the ‘blood laid the foundation for that 
real knowledge of the working of the human body which is at the basis 
of medicine; our experience of the history of its development gives us 
good grounds to hope that the work that is now being carried out by 
numerous researchers under the term ‘ experimental’ will ultimately 
elevate the art of diagnosis into an exact science. Harvey’s work, too, 
mostly on developing chicks, was the starting-point for our knowledge 
of human development and growth. Instances in medicine could be 
multiplied wherein clinical treatment has only been rendered possible 
by laborious research into the life histories of certain parasites preying 
often on man and other animals alternately. In this connection there 
seems reason at present for the belief that the great problem of medical 
science, cancer, will reach its solution from the zoological side. A 
pure zoologist has shown that typical cancer of the stomach of the rat 
can be produced by a parasitic threadworm (allied to that found in 
pork, Trichina), this having as a carrying host the American cock- 
roach, brought over to the large warehouses of Copenhagen in sacks of 
sugar. Our attack on such parasites is only made effective by what we 
know of them in lower forms, which we can deal with at will. Millions 
of the best of our race owe their lives to the labours of forgotten men 
of science, who laid the foundations of our knowledge of the generations 
of insects and flat-worms, the modes of life of lice and ticks, and the 
physiology of such lowly creatures as Ameba and Paramecium; parasitic 
disease—malaria, Bilharziasis, typhus, trench fever and dysentery— 
was as deadly a foe to us as was the Hun. 

Of immense economic importance in the whole domain of domestic 
animals and plants was the rediscovery, early in the present century, 
of the complefely forgotten work of Gregor Mendel on cross-breeding, 
made known to the present generation largely by the labours of a 
former President of this Association, who, true man of science, claims 
no credit for himself. We see results already in the few years that 
lave elapsed in special breeds of wheat, in which have been combined 
with exactitude the qualities man desires. The results are in the 
making—and this is true of all things in biology—but can anyone doubt 
that the breeding of animals is becoming an exact science? We have 
got far, perhaps, but we want to get much further in our understand- 
ing of the laws governing human heredity; we have to establish 
immunity to disease. Without the purely scientific study of chromo- 
somes (the bodies which carry the physical and mental characteristics 
of parents to children) we could have got nowhere, and to reach our 
goal we must know more of the various forces which in combination 
make up what we term life. 

In agricultural sciences we are confronted with pests in half a 
dozen different groups of animals. We have often to discover which 
of two or more is the damaging form, and the difficulty is greater 

D.—-ZOOLOGY. 89 

where the damage is due to association between plant and animal pests. 
Insects are, perhaps, the worst offenders, and our basal knowledge of 
them as living organisms—they can do no damage when dead, and 
perhaps pinned in our showcases—is due to Redi, Schwammerdam, 
and Réaumur in the middle of the seventeenth century. Our present 
successful honey production is founded on the curiosity of these men in 
respect to the origin of life and the generations of insects. The fact 
that most of the dominant insects have a worm (caterpillar or maggot) 
stage of growth, often of far longer duration than that of the inseets, 
has made systematic descriptive work on the relation of worm and 
insect of peculiar importance. I hesitate, however, to refer to catalogues 
in which perhaps a million different forms of adults and young are 
described. Nowadays we know, to a large degree, with what pests we 
deal and we are seeking remedies. We fumigate and we spray, spending 
millions of money, but the next remedy is in the use of free-living 
enemies or parasites to prey on the insect pests. The close correlation 
of anatomy with function is of use here in that life histories, whether 
parasitic, carnivorous, vegetarian, or saprophagous, can be foretold in 
fly maggots from the structure of the front part of their gut (pharynx) ; 
we know whether any maggot is a pest, is harmless, or is beneficial. 

I won’t disappoint those who expect me to refer more deeply to 
science in respect to fisheries, but its operations in this field are less 
known to the public at large. The opening up of our north-western 
grounds and banks is due to the scientific curiosity of Wyville Thomson 
and his confréres as to the existence or non-existence of animal life 
in the deep sea. It was sheer desire for knowledge that attracted 
a host of inquirers to investigate the life history of river eels. The 
wonder of a fish living in our shallowest pools and travelling two 
or three thousand miles to breed, very likely on the bottom in 2,000 
fathoms, and subjected to pressures varying from 14 lb. to 2 tons per 
square inch, is peculiarly attractive. It shows its results in regular 
eel farming, the catching and transplantation of the baby eels out of 
the Severn into suitable waters, which cannot, by the efforts of Nature 
alone, be sure of their regular supply. Purely scientific observations 
on the life histories of flat fish—these were largely stimulated by the 
scientific curiosity induced by the views of Lamarck and Darwin as 
to the causes underlying their anatomical development—and on the 
feeding value and nature of Thisted Bredning and the Dogger Bank, 
led to the successful experiments on transplantation of young plaice 
to these grounds and the phenomenal growth results obtained, particu- 
larly on the latter. Who can doubt that this ‘ movement of herds’ 
is one of the first results to be applied in the farming of the North 
Sea as soon as the conservation of our fish supply becomes a question 
of necessity ? 

The abundance of mackerel is connected with the movements of 
Atlantic water into the British Channel andthe North Sea, movements 
depending on complex astronomical, chemical, and physical conditions. 
‘They are further related to the food of the mackerel, smaller animal 
life which dwells only in these Atlantic waters. These depend, as 
indeed do all animals, on that living matter which possesses chlorophyll 


for its nutrition and which we call plant. In this case the plants 
are spores of algae, diatoms, etc., and their abundance as food again 
depends on the amount of the light of the sun—the ultimate source, 
it might seem, of all life. 

A method of ascertaining the age of fishes was sought purely to 
correlate age with growth in comparison with the growth of air-living 
vertebrates. This method was found in the rings of growth in the 
scales, and now the ascertaining of age-groups in herring shoals enables 
the Norwegian fishermen to know with certainty what possibilities and 
probabilities are before them in the forthcoming season. From the 
work on the blending together of Atlantic with Baltic and North Sea 
water off the Baltic Bight and of the subsequent movements of this 
Bank water, as it. is termed, into the Swedish fiords can be understood, 
year by year, the Swedish herring fishery. It is interesting that these 
fisheries have been further correlated with cycles of sun spots, and 
also with longer cycles of lunar changes. 

The mass of seemingly unproductive scientific inquiries undertaken 
by the United States Bureau of Fisheries, thirty to fifty years ago, 
was the forerunner of their immense fish-hatching operations, whereby 
billions of fish eggs are stripped year by year and the fresh waters 
of that country made into an important source for the supply of food. 
The study of the growth stages of lobsters and crabs has resulted in 
sane regulations to protect the egg-carrying females, and in some 
keeping up of the supply in spite of the enormously increased demand. 
Lastly, the study of free-swimming larval stages in mollusea, stimu- 
lated immensely by their similarity to larval stages in worms and 
starfishes, has given rise to the establishment of a successful pearl- 
shell farm at Dongonab, in the Red Sea, and of numerous fresh-water 
mussel fisheries in the southern rivers of the United States, to supply 
small shirt buttons. 

Fishery inyestigation was not originally directed to a more ambitious 
end than giving a reasonable answer to a question of the wisdom or 
unwisdom of compulsorily restricting commercial fishing, but it was 
soon found that this answer could not be obtained without the aid 
of pure zoology. The spread of trawling—and particularly the intro- 
duction of steam trawling during the last century—gave rise to grave 
tears that the stock of fish in home waters might be very seriously 
depleted by the use of new methods. We first required to know the 
life histories of the various trawled fish, and Sars and others told 
us that the eggs of the vast majority of the European marine food 
species were pelagic; in other words, that they floated, and thus could 
not be destroyed, as had been alleged. Trawl fishing might have to 
be regulated all the same, for there might be an insufficient number 
of parents to keep up the stock. It was clearly necessary to know 
the habits, movements, and distribution of the fishes, for all were 
not, throughout their life; or at all seasons. found on the grounds it 
was practicable to fish. A North Sea plaice of 12 in. in length, a 
quite moderate size, is usually five years old. The fact that of the 
female plaice captured in the White Sea, a virgin ground, the vast 
majority are mature, while less than half the plaice put upon our — 


markets from certain parts of the southern North Sea in the years 
immediately before the war had ever spawned, is not only of great 
interest, but gives rise to grave fears as to the possibility of unrestricted 
fishing dangerously depleting the stock itself. There is, however, 
another group of ideas surrounding the question of getting the maximum 
amount of plaice-meat from the sea; it may be that the best size for 
catching is in reality below the smallest spawning size. I here merely 
emphasise that in the plaice we have an instance of an important food 
fish whose capture it will probably be necessary to regulate, and that 
in determining how best the stock may be conserved, what sizes should 
receive partial protection, on what grounds fish congregate and why, 
and in all the many cognate questions which arise, answers to either 
can only be given by the aid of zoological science. 

But why multiply instances of the applications of zoology as a pure 
science to human affairs? Great results are asked for on every side of 
human activities. The zoologist, if he be given a chance to live and 
to hand on his. knowledge and experience to a generation of pupils, 
can answer many of them. He is increasingly getting done with the 
collection of anatomical facts, and he is turning more and more to the 
why and how animals live. We may not know in our generation nor 
in many generations what life is, but we can know enough to control 
that life. The consideration of the fact that living matter and water 
are universally associated opens up high possibilities. The experi- 
mental reproduction of animals, without the interposition of the male, 
is immensely interesting; where it will lead no one can foretell. The 
association of growth with the acidity and alkalinity of the water is a 
matter of immediate practical importance, especially to fisheries. The 
probability of dissolved food material in sea and river water, indepen- 
dent of organised organic life and absorbable over the whole surfaces of 
animals, is clearly before us. Is it possible that that dissolved material 
may be even now being created in nature without the assistance of 
organic life? The knowledge of the existence in food of vitamines, 
making digestible and usable what in food would otherwise be wasted, 
may well result in economies of food that will for generations prevent the 
necessity for the artificial restriction of populations. The parallel 
between these vitamines and something in sea-water may quite soon 
apply practically to the consideration of all life in the sea. Finally, 
what we know of the living matter of germ cells puts before us the not 
impossible hope that we may influence for the better the generations yet 

to come. 

If it is the possibility in the unknown that makes a science, are 
there not enough possibilities here? Does Zoology, with these prob- 
lems before it, look like a decayed and worked-out science? Is it not 
worthy to be ranked with any other science, and is it not worthy 
of the highest support? Is it likely to show good value for the 
money spent upon it? Should we not demand for it a Professorial 
Chair in every University that wishes to be regarded as an educational 
institution? And has not the occupant of such a Chair a task at least 
equal in difficulty to that of the occupant of any other Chair? Surely 
the zoologist may reasonably claim an equal position and pay to that 


of the devotee of any other science! The researcher is not a huckstet' 
and will not make this claim on his own behalf, but the occupant of 
this Chair may be allowed to do so for him. 

So far I have devoted my attention primarily, in this survey of the 
position of Zoology, to the usefulness of the subject. Let us now note 
where we stand in respect to other subjects and in meeting the real need 
for wide zoological study. 

All sciences are now being reviewed, and zoology has to meet month 
by month the increasingly powerful claim of physics and chemistry for 
public support. Both of these sciences are conspicuously applicable 
to industry, and this, perhaps, is their best claim. The consideration 
of life as a science would itself be in danger were it not for the economic 
applications of physiology to medicine. This is the danger from 
without, but there is another from within, and this lies in the splitting 
up of the subject into a series of small sections devoted to special 
economic ends. They are a real danger in that they are forming 
enclosures Within a science, while research is more and more breaking 
down the walls between sciences. Zoology in many Universities 
scarcely exists, for what is assimilated by agriculturists and medical 
men are catalogued lists of pests, while medical students merely acquire 
the technique of observing dead forms of animals other than human— 
not the intention of the teachers, it is true, but a melancholy fact all 
the same. The student, I say again, is merely acquiring in ‘ Zoology ’ 
a travesty of a noble subject, but to this point I return later. 

Let me now give a few facts which have their sweet and bitter for 
us who make Zoology our life work. During the war we wanted men 
who had passed the Honours Schools in Zoology—and hence, were pre- 
sumably capable of doing the work—to train for the diagnosis of proto- 
zoal disease. We asked for all names from 1905 to 1914 inclusive, and the 
average worked out at under fourteen per year from all English 
Universities: an average of one student per University per year. In 
the year 1913-14 every student who had done his Honours Course in 
Zoology in 1913 could, if he had taken entomology as his subject, have 
been absorbed into the economic applications of that subject. Trained 
men were wanted to undertake scientific fishery investigations and they 
could not be found. Posts were advertised in Animal Breeding, in 
Helminthology, and in Protozoology, three other economic sides of 
the subject. The Natural History Museum wanted systematists and 
there were many advertisements for teachers. How many of these 
posts were filled I don’t know, but it is clear that not more than one- 
half—or even one-third—can have been filled efficiently. Can any 
zoologist say that all is well with his subject in the face of these 

The demands for men in the economic sides of zoology are con- 
tinually growing, and it is the business of Universities to try and meet 
these demands. There are Departments of Government at home and 
in our Colonies, which, in the interests of the people they govern, wish 
to put into operation protective measures but cannot do so because 
there are not the men with the requisite knowledge and common sense 
required for Inspectorates. There are others that wish for research 

D.—ZOOLOGY. 938 

t to develop seas, to conserve existing industries as well as to discover new 



ones, and they, too, are compelled to mark time. 

In default, or in spite of, the efforts of the schools of pure zoology, 
attempts are being made to set up special training schools in fisheries, 
in entomology, and in other economic applications of zoology. Hach 
branch is regarded as a science and the supporters of each suppose 
they can, from the commencement of a lad’s scientific training, give 
specialised instruction in each. The researcher in each has to do the 
research which the economic side requires. But he can’t restrict his 
education to one science; he requires to know the principles of all 
sciences; he must attempt to understand what life is. Moreover, his 
specialist knowledge can seldom be in one science. The economic 
entomologist, however deep his knowledge of insects may be, will find 
himself frequently at fault in distinguishing cause and effect unless he 
has some knowledge of mycology. The protozoologist must have an 
intimate knowledge of unicellular plants, bacterial and other. The 
animal-breeder must know the work on cross-fertilisation of plants. 
The fisheries man requires to understand physical oceanography. The 
helminthologist and the veterinary surgeon require an intimate know- 
ledge of a rather specialised ‘ physiology.’ All need knowledge of the 
comparative physiology of animals in other groups beyond those with 
which they deal, to assist them in their deductions and to aid them to 
secure the widest outlook. It is surely a mistake, while the greatest 
scientific minds of the day find that they require the widest knowledge, 
to endeavour to get great scientific results out of students whose train- 
ing has been narrow and specialised. Such specialisation requires to 
come later, and can replace nothing. ‘This short cut is the longest way 
round. The danger is not only in our science, but in every science. 

In face of this highly gratifying need for trained zoologists, indepen- 
dently of medical schools, I ask my colleagues in the teaching of zoology, 
‘What is wrong with our schools of zoology that they are producing 
so few men of science? It is not the subject! Can it be our presenta- 
tion of it, or is it merely a question of inadequate stipends? ’ 

In science schools there can be no standing still. Progress or 
retrogression in thought, technique, and method are the two alterna- 
tives. If we are to progress we must see ever wider vistas of thought, 
and must use the achievements of cur predecessors as the take-off for 
our own advances. The foundations of our science were well and truly 
laid, but we must not count the bricks for ever, but add to them. 
Par be it from me to decry the knowledge and ideas our predecessors 

_haye given to us. To have proved the possibility, nay, probability, that 

all life is one life and that life itself is permanent is an immense achieve- 
ment. To have catalogued the multitudinous forms that life takes in 
each country was a herculean task. To have studied with meticulous 
eare the shapes, forms, and developments of organs in so many bodies 
was equally herculean. It was as much as could be expected in the 
nineteenth century, during most of which zoology was in advance of 
all other sciences. But surely for these pioneer workers this docket- 
ing, tabulating, and collecting was not the object of their research, 
but the means to its attainment, The prize they sought was the under- 


standing of life itself, the intangible mystery which makes ourselves 
akin to all these specimens, the common possession which gives to man, 
as to the lowest creature, the power of growth and reproduction. 

To my colleagues I say, let us no longer, in the reconstruction 
immediately before us, tie ourselves down to the re-chewing of our dry 
bones. They are but dead bones, and the great mystery which once 
lived in them has passed from them, and it is that we must now 
seek. Not in bones, in myriads of named specimens, does that mystery 
dwell, but in the living being itself, in the growth and reproduction of 
live creatures. Observation and experiment rather than tabulation and 
docketing are our technique. What is that life, common to you, to me, 
to our domestic pets, to animals and to plants alike? Surely this is 
our goal, and the contents of our museums, means to this end, are 
in danger of being regarded as the end. There is hope now. Those 
of us who have the will to look can see zoology in its proper plaéé, 
the colleague of botany in applying physics and chemistry to the under- 
standing of life itself. The study of life is the oldest of all sciences; 
it is the science in which the child earliest takes an interest; its study 
has all the attributes required for education of the highest type, for the 
appreciation of the beauty of form and of music, of unselfishness, of 
self-control, of imagination, of love, and constancy. The more we know 
of life, the more we appreciate its wonders and the moré we want t 
know ; it is good to be alive. 

Surely the time has now come for us to lift our eyes from our 
tables of groups and families, and, on the foundations of the know- 
ledge of these, work on the processes going on in the living body, 
the adaptation to environment, the problems of heredity, and of many 
another fascinating hunt in unknown country. Let us teach our 
students not only what is known, but, still more, what is unknown, for 
in the pursuit of the latter we shall engage eager spirits who care nought 
for collections of corpses. My own conviction is that we are in danger 
of burying our live subject along with our specimens in museums. 

We see the same evil at work in the teaching of zoology from the 
very beginning. Those of us who are parents know that the problems 
of life assail a child almost as soon as it can speak, and that it is the 
animal side of creation which makes the most natural and immediate 
appeal to its interest and curiosity. Where such interest is intelligent 
and constant it is safe to educate truly in the desired direction. You 
will notice that the child’s questions are very fundamental and that, 
according to my experience, the facts elicited are applied widely, and 
with perfect simplicity. ‘Thus my own small daughter, having elicited 
where the baby rabbits came from, said ‘ Oh! just like eggs from hens.’ 

The child’s own desires show up best what his mind requires for 
its due development, and I fear no contradiction in claiming that it is 
animal life in all its living aspects. Yet what is he given? Schools 
encourage ‘natural history,’ as it is termed. In some it is nature; but 
too often it consists in a series of prizes for dates—when the first 
blooms of wild flowers were found; the first nests, eggs, and young of 
birds ; the records of butterflies and moths, etc. Actual instruction, if 
there is any beyond this systematic teaching of destruction, frequently 


_ lies solely in a few sheets of the life histories of the cabbage butterfly 



and other insects. Fossil sea urchins and shells are curiosities and 

are used to teach names. The whole is taught—there are some striking 
exceptions—with the minimum requirements of observation and intelli- 
gence. Plants too often dominate. The lad can pluck flowers and 
tear up roots; there is a certain cruelty to be discouraged if animals 
are treated similarly, but here there is none, for ‘they are not alive’ as 

_weare. Which one of us would agree to this, and say that there is 
not a similar ‘ cruelty’ in tearing up plants? The method is the 



negation of science. The boy must be taught from the other end, from 
fhe ohe animal about which he does know a little, viz., himself. From 
the commencement he must associate himself with all living matter. 
The child—boy or girl—shows us the way in that he is invariably keener 
on the domestic pets, while he has to be bribed by pennies to learn 
plant names. 

As a result of the wrong teaching of zoology we see proposals to 
make so-called “nature study’ in our schools purely, botanical. Is 
this proposal made in the interests of the teacher or the children? It 
surely can’t be for ‘ decency ’ if the teaching is honest, for the pheno- 
mena are the same, and there is nothing ‘indecent’ common to all 
life. ‘The proper study of mankind is man,’ and the poor child, 
athirst for information about himself, is given a piece of moss or duck- 
weed, or even a chaste buttercup. Is the child supposed to get some 
knowledge it can apply economically? Whatever the underlying ideas 
may be, this course will not best develop the mind to enable it to 
grapple with all phenomena, the aim of education. If necessary, the 
scliool teacher must. go to school; he must bring himself up to date in 

_ his own time, as every teacher in science has to do; it is the business 

of Universities to help him, for nothing is more important to all science 
than the foundations of knowledge. 

Into schools is now moving the teaching required for the first 
professional examination in medicine, and this profoundly affects the 

_ whole attitude of teachers. It has a syllabus approved by the Union 

of Medicine, the ‘ apprenticeship ’ to which is as real and as difficult to 

alter as that of any expert trade with its own union. It compels the 

remembering of a number of anatomical facts relating to a miscellaneous 
seléction of animals and plants, and the acquirement of a certain 
amount of technique. However it may be taught, its examination can 
almost invariably be passed on memory and manual dexterity ; it implies 

no standard of mental ability. Anatomy without function and know- 

ledge of an organism without reference to its life is surely futile. And 
yet, too often, this is what our colleagues concerned with the second 
year of this apprenticeship directly or indirectly compel us to teach 
in the first year. Surely it is time for us to rebel and insist that what 
is required is education as to the real meaning of what life is. We 
shall never reach complete agreement as to a syllabus, but probably 
we are all at one in regarding reproduction as the most interesting 
biological phenomenon, and water and air as the most important environ- 

Unfortunately most Universities have adopted this in many ways 


unscientific and rather useless first Medical Examination as part. of 
their first examination for the B.Sc. degree and for diplomas and 
degrees in agriculture, dentistry, and other subjects. Zoology is part 
of a syllabus in which half a dozen professors are concerned, and it 
cannot change with the times without great difficulty. Our colleagues 
of other sciences do not want it to change, preferring that a rival subject 
to attract pupils should remain in a backwash; to be just, each has 
a firm belief in the subject he knows. For our continuation courses, 
having choked out the more thinking students, we have to go on as 
we have begun, and we survey the animal kingdom in a more or less 
systematic manner. We carefully see that all our beasts are killed 
before we commence upon them; we deal solely with their compara- 
tive anatomy, to which are often added some stories of ‘ evolution,’ 
fhe whole an attempted history of the animal kingdom. There are 
great educational merits in the study of the comparative anatomy of 
a group of similar animals, but too often we go to group after group, 
the student attaining all that is educational in the first, only securing 
from each subsequent group more and more facts which might just 
as well be culled from text-books. 

Students who continue further and take the final honours in zoology 
specialise in most Universities in their last year in some branch of 
their science. Such students are usually thinking of the subject from 
the point of view of their subsequent livelihood. They have to think 
of what will pay and in what branches there is, in their University, 
some teacher from whom they can get special instruction. They read 
up the most modern text-book, examine a few specimens, and are often 
given the class they desire by examiners who know less of their 
speciality than they do. They are then supposed to be qualified both 
to teach and research in zoology. They teach on the same vicious 
lines, and in research many are satisfied to become mere accumulators 
of more facts in regard to dead creatures. 

I have called this address ‘ Where do we stand?’ and I hope all 
who are interested will try to answer this question. Personally I feel 
that we stand in a most uncomfortable position, in which, to use a 
colloquialism, we must either get on or get out. I am certain that the 
progress of humanity requires us to ‘ get on.’ 

Of you in my audience who are not workers in science I ask a 
final moment of consideration. There is no knowledge of which it 
is possible to answer the question, ‘ What is the use of it?’ for only 
time can disclose what are the full bearings of any piece of know- 
ledge. Let us not starve pure research because we do not see its 
immediate application. I often think that if Sir Isaac Newton, at 
the present day, discovered the law of gravity as a result of watching 
the apples fall, someone would say, ‘ Oh! interesting, no doubt: but 
my money will go to the man who can stop the maggots in them.’ 

On the one side leads the path of economic research, offering more 
obvious attractions in the way of rapid results and of greater immediate 
recognition. That path is one trodden by noble steps, full of sacrifice 
and difficulty, worthy of treading. But let us view with still greater 
sympathy and understanding the harder path which leads workers, 

D.— ZOOLOGY. 97 

through years of seemingly unproductive toil, to strive after the solution 
of the great basal problems of life. Such workers forfeit for themselves 
the hope of wealth, leisure, and public recognition. As a rule they die 
in harness, and leave not much beyond honoured names. ‘These are 
they who worship at the Altar of the Unknown, who at great cost 
wrest from the darkness its secrets, not recking of the boon they may 
bring to humanity. It is for these I plead, not for themselves as 
individuals, but for the means wherewith to keep the flame of pure 
research burning, for the laboratories and equipment that all Universities 

1920 H 






SincE the last meeting of the British Association, Treaties of Peace 
have been signed with Austria, Hungary, Bulgaria, and Turkey; and, 
although there is still much which is unsettled, especially in the East, 
it 1s now possible to obtain some idea of the changes wrought on the 
map of Europe by the Great War. These changes are indeed of the 
most profound and far-reaching description. Old States have in some 
cases either disappeared or suffered an enormous loss of territory, and 
new States, with the very names of which we are but vaguely familiar, 
have been brought into existence. It has seemed to me, therefore, 
that it might not be altogether inappropriate to inquire into the prin- 
ciples upon which these territorial changes have been made, and to 
consider how far the political units affected by them possess the elements 
of stability. A learned but pessimistic historian to whom I confided 
my intention shook his head and gravely remarked, ‘ Whatever you 
say on that subject will be writ in water.’ But the more I consider 
the matter the more do I feel convinced that certain features in the 
reconstructed Europe are of great and even of permanent value, and 
it is in that belief that I have ventured to disregard the warning which 
was given me. 

In the rearrangement of European States which has taken place, 
geographical conditions have perhaps not always had the consideration 
which they deserve, but in an inquiry such as that upon which we are 
engaged they naturally occupy the first place. And by geographical 
conditions I am not thinking primarily, or even mainly, of defensive 
frontiers. It may be true, as Sir Thomas Holdich implies, that they 
alone form the true limits of a State. But if they do we ought to 
carry our theory to its logical conclusion and crown them with barbed- 
wire entanglements. Whether mankind would be happier or even safer 
if placed in a series of gigantic compounds I greatly doubt. It is to the 
land within the frontier, and not to the frontier itself, that our main 
consideration should be given. The factors which we have to take 
into account are those which enable a people to lead a common national 


life, to develop the economic resources of the region within which they 
dwell, to communicate freely with other peoples, and to provide not 
only for the needs of the moment, but as far as possible for those 
arising out of the natural increase of the population. 

The principle of self-determination has likewise played an important, 
if not always a well-defined, part in the rearrangement of EKurope. The 
basis upon which the new nationalities have been constituted is on 
the whole ethnical, though it is true that within the main ethnical 
divisions advantage has been taken of the further differentiation in 
racial characteristics arising out of differences in geographical environ- 
ment, history, language, and religion. But no more striking illustration 
could be adduced of the strength of ethnic relationships at the present 
time than the union of the Czechs with the Slovaks, or of the Serbs 
with the Croats and the Slovenes. Economic considerations, of course, 
played a great part in the settlement arrived at with Germany, but on 
the whole less weight has been attached to them than to ethnic condi- 
tions. In cases where they have been allowed to influence the final 
decision the result arrived at has not always been a happy one. Nor 
can more be said for those cases where the motive was political or 
strategic. Historical claims, which have been urged mainly by Powers 
anxious to obtain more than that to which they are entitled on other 
grounds, may be regarded as the weakest of all claims to the possession 
of new territory. 

When we come to examine the application of the principles which 
I have indicated to the settlement of Europe we shall, I think, find that 
the promise of stability is greatest in those cases where geographical and 
ethnical conditions are most in harmony, and least where undue weight 
has been given to conditions which are neither geographical nor ethnical. 

The restoration of Alsace-Lorraine to France has always been treated 
as a foregone conclusion in the event of a successful termination of the 
war against Germany. From the geographical point of view, however, 
there are certainly objections to the inclusion of Alsace within French 
territory. The true frontier of France in that region is the Vosges, not 
necessarily because they form the best defensive frontier, but because 
Alsace belongs to the Rhineland, and the possession of it brings France 
into a position from which trouble with Germany may arise in the 

Nor can French claims to Alsace be justified on ethnical grounds. 
The population of the region contains a strong Teutonic element, as 
indeed does that of Northern France, and the language spoken by over 
90 per cent. of the people is German. On the other hand, it must 
be borne in mind that during the period between the annexation of 
Alsace by France in the seventeenth century and its annexation by 
Germany in the nineteenth French policy appears to have been highly 
successful in winning over the sympathies of the Alsatians, just as 
between 1871 and 1914 German policy was no less successful in alienat- 
ing them. The restoration of Alsace must therefore be defended, if 
at all, on the ground that its inhabitants are more attached to France 
than to Germany. That attachment it will be necessary for France to 
preserve in the future, as economic conditions are not altogether favour- 



able. The cotton industry of Alsace may perhaps attach itself to that 
of France without great difficulty ; but the agricultural produce of the 
Rhine plain will as before be likely to find its best and most conyenient 
market in the industrial regions of Germany. 

With regard to Lorraine the position is somewhat different. Physi- 
cally that region belongs in the main to the country of the Paris basin, 
and is therefore in a sense part of France. Strategically it commands 
the routes which enter France from Germany between Belgium and 
the Vosges, and from that point of view its possession is of the utmost 
importance to her. Of the native population about one-third speak 
French, and the German element is mainly concentrated in the more 
densely populated districts of the north-east. But although in these 
various aspects Lorraine may be regarded as belonging to France in a 
sense in which Alsace does not, the real argument for the restoration 
of the ceded provinces is in both cases the same. Lorraine, no. less 
than Alsace, is French in its civilisation and in its sympathies. 

From the economic point of view, however, the great deposits of 
iron ore in Lorraine constitute its chief attraction for France to-day, 
just as they appear to have constituted its chief attraction for Germany 
half a century ago. But the transfer of the province from Germany, 
which has built up a great industry on the exploitation of its mines, 
to France, which does not possess in sufficient. abundance coal for 
smelting purposes, together with other arrangements of a territorial or 
quasi-territorial nature made partly at least in consequence of this 
transfer, at once raises questions as to the extent to which the economic 
stability of Germany is threatened. The position of that country, with 
regard to the manufacture of iron and steel will be greatly affected, for 
not only does she lose, in Lorraine and the Saar, regions in which these 
manufactures were highly developed, but she loses in them the sources 
from which other manufacturing regions still left to her, notably the 
Ruhr, drew considerable quantities either of raw materials or of semi- 
manufactured goods. For example, in 1913 the Ruhr, which produced 
over 40 per cent. of the pig iron of the German Empire, obtained 15 per 
cent. of its iron ore from Lorraine, and it also obtained from there 
and from the Saar a large amount of pig iron for the manufacture of 
steel. Unless, therefore, arrangements can be made for a continued 
supply of these materials a number of its industrial establishments will 
have to be closed down. 

In regard to coal, the position is also serious.. We need not, perhaps, 
be unduly impressed by the somewhat alarmist attitude of Mr. Keynes, 
who estimates that on the basis of the 1913 figures Germany, as she 
is now constituted, will require for the pre-war efficiency of her rail- 
ways and industries an annual output of 110,000,000 tons, and that 
instead she will have in future only 100,000,000 tons, of which 
40,000,000 will be mortgaged to the Allies. In arriving at these figures 
Mr. Keynes has made an allowance of 18,000,000 tons for decreased 
production, one-half of which is caused by the German miner having 
shortened his shift from eight and a half to. seven hours per day. 
This is certainly a deduction which we need not take into account. 
Mr. Keynes also leaves out of his calculation the fact that previous to the 


war about 10,000,000 tons per year were sent from Upper Silesia to 
other parts of Germany, and there is no reason to suppose that this 
amount need be greatly reduced, especially in view of Article 90 of the 
Treaty of Versailles, which provides that ‘for a period of fifteen years 
Poland will permit the produce of the mines of Upper Silesia to be 
available for sale to purchasers in Germany on terms as favourable 
as are applicable to like products sold under similar conditions in Poland 
or in any other country.’ We have further to take into account the 
opportunities for economy in the use of coal, the reduction in the 
amount which will be required for bunkers, the possibility of renewing 
imports from abroad—to a very limited extent indeed, but still to some 
extent—and the fact that the French mines are being restored more 
rapidly than at one time appeared. possible. (On the basis of the 
production of the first four months of 1920 Germany could already 
reduce her Treaty obligations to France by 1,000,000 tons per year.) 
Taking all of these facts into account, it is probably correct to say that 
when Germany can restore the output of the mines left to her to the 
1913 figure, she will, as regards her coal supply for industrial purposes, 
be in a position not very far removed from that in which she was in 
1910, when her total consumption, apart from that at the mines, was 
about 100,000,000 tons. 

The actual arrangements which have been made, it is true, are in 
some cases open to objection. The Saar is not geographically part of 
France, and its inhabitants are German by race, language, and sym- 
pathy. It is only in the economic necessities of the situation that a 
defence, though hardly a justification, of the annexation of the coal- 
field can be found. The coal from it is to be used in the main for the 
same purposes as before, whereas if it had been left to Germany much 
of it might have been diverted to other purposes. In 1913 the total 
production of Alsace-Lorraine and the Saar amounted to about 
18,000,000. tons, while their consumption was about 14,000,000 tons. 
There is thus apparently a net gain to France of about 4,000,000 tons, 
but from that must be deducted the amount which the North-Hast of 
France received from this field in pre-war days. Switzerland also will 
probably in future continue to draw part of its supplies from the Saar. 

The stipulation that Germany should for ten years pay part of her 
indemnities to France, Belgium, and Italy in kind also indicates an 
attempt to preserve the pre-war distribution of coal in Europe, though 
in some respects the scales seem to have been rather unfairly weighted 
against Germany. France, for example, requires a continuance of 
Westphalian coal for the metallurgical industries of Lorrainé and the 
Saar, while Germany requires a continuance of Lorraine ore if her iron- 
works on the Ruhr are not to be closed down. There was therefore 
nothing unreasonable in the German request that she should be secured 
her supplies of the latter commodity. Indeed, it would have been to 
the advantage of both countries if a clause similar to Article 90, which 
I have already quoted, had been inserted in the Treaty. It is true 
that temporary arrangements have since been made which will ensure 
to Germany a considerable proportion of her pre-war consumption of 
minette ores. But some agreement which enabled the two separate 


but complementary natural regions of the Saar and the Ruhr to exchange 
their surplus products on a business basis would have tended to an 
earlier restoration of good feeling between the two countries. 

One other question which arises in this connection is the extent 
to which the steel industry of Germany will suffer by the loss of the 
regions from which she obtained the semi-manufactured products neces- 
sary for it. On this subject it is dangerous to prophesy, but when we 
take into consideration the length of time required for the construction 
of modern steelworks, the technical skill involved in their management, 
and the uncertainties with regard to future supplies of fuel, it seems 
unlikely that France will attempt any rapid development of her steel 
industry. In that case the Ruhr will still continue to be an important 
market for Lorraine and the Saar. 

Our general conclusion, then, is that the territorial arrangements 
which have been made do not necessarily imperil the economic stability 
of Germany. The economic consequences of the war are really much 
more serious than the economic consequences of the peace. Germany 
has for ten years to make good the difference between the actual and 
the pre-war production of the French mines which she destroyed. Her 
own miners are working shorter hours, and as a result her own pro- 
duction is reduced, and as British miners are doing the same she is 
unable. to import from this country. For some years these deductions 
will represent a loss to her of about 40,000,000 tons per annum, and 
will undoubtedly make her position a serious one. But to give her 
either the Saar or the Upper Silesian coalfields would be to enable her 
to pass on to others the debt which she herself has incurred. The re- 
duction of her annual deliveries of coal to France, Belgium, and Italy 
was, indeed, the best way in which to show mercy to her. 

The position of Poland is geographically weak, partly because its 
surface features are such that the land has no well-marked individuality, 
and partly because there are on the east and west no natural boundaries 
to prevent invasion or to restrain the Poles from wandering 
far beyond the extreme limits of their State. Polish geographers 
themselves appear conscious of this geographical infirmity, 
as ‘Vidal de la Blache would have termed it, and in an 
interesting little work Nalkowski has endeavoured to show that 
the very transitionality of the land between east and west entitles 
it to be regarded as a geographical entity. But transitionality is rather 
the negation of geographical individuality than the basis on which it 
may be established. And indeed no one has pointed out its dangers 
more clearly than Nalkowski himself. ‘The Polish people,’ he says, 
‘living in this transitional country always were, and still are, a prey 
to a succession of dangers and struggles. They should be ever alert 
and courageous, remembering that on such a transitional plain, devoid 
of strategic frontiers, racial boundaries are marked only by the energy 
and civilisation of the people. If they are strong they advance those 
frontiers by pushing forward ; by weakening and giving way they promote 
their contraction. So the mainland may thrust out arms into the sea, 
or, being weak, may be breached and even overwhelmed by the ocean 
floads.’ If we bear in mind the constant temptation to a people which 


is strong to advance its political no less than its racial frontiers, and 
the constant danger to which a weakening people is exposed of finding 
its political frontier contract even more rapidly than its racial, we shall 
yealise some of the evils to which a State basing its existence on 
transitionality is exposed. 

It is, then, to racial feeling, rather than to geographical environ- 
ment, that we must look for the basis of the new Polish State, but 
the intensity with which this feeling is likely to operate varies consider- 
ably in different parts of the region which it is proposed to include. 
In the plébiscite area of Upper Silesia there were, according to the 
census of 1900, which is believed to represent the facts more accurately 
than that of 1910, seven Poles to three of other nationalities. In 
Prussian Poland, apart from the western districts which have not been 
annexed to Poland and the town and district of Bromberg, the Poles 
number at least 75 per cent. of the total population, and in the ceded 
and plébiscite areas of East and West Prussia 52 per cent. Russian 
Poland, which contains rather more than two-thirds of the entire popula- 
tion of what we may call ethnic Poland, has 9,500,000 Poles and over 
3,000,000 Jews, Germans, Lithuanians, and others, while West Galicia 
is almost solidly Polish. Thus out of a total population of 21,000,000 
within the regions mentioned the Poles number 15,500,000, or about 
75 per cent. 

Bearing these facts in mind, it is possible to consider the potentialities 
of the new State. The population is sufficiently large and the Polish 
element within it is sufficiently strong to justify its independence on 
ethnical grounds. Moreover, the alien elements which it contains are 
united neither by racial ties nor by contiguity of settlement. In Posen, 
for example, there is in the part annexed to Poland a definitely Polish 
population with a number of isolated German settlements, while in 
Russian Poland the Jews are to be found mainly in the towns. Con- 
sidered as a whole, Poland is at least as pure racially as the United 

When we consider the economic resources of Poland we see that 
they also make for a strong and united State. It is true that in the 
past the country has failed to develop as an economic unit, but this 
is a natural result of the partitions and of the different economic 
systems which have prevailed in different regions. HEyen now, however, 
we can trace the growth of two belts of industrial activity which will 
eventually unite these different regions together. One is situated on 
the coalfield running from Oppeln in Silesia by Cracow and Lemberg, 
and is engaged in mining, agriculture, and forestry; while the other 
extends from Posen by Lodz to Warsaw, and has much agricultural 
wealth and an important textile industry. Moreover, the conditions, 
geographical and economic, are favourable to the growth of international 
trade. If Poland obtains Upper Silesia she will have more 
coal than she requires, and the Upper Silesian fields will, 
as in the past, export their surplus produce to the surrounding 
countries, while the manufacturing districts will continue to find 
their best markets in the Russian area to the east. The outlets 
of the State are good, for not only has it for all practical purposes 


control of the port of Danzig, but it is able to share in the navigation 
of the Oder and it has easy access to the south by way of the Moravian 

It seems obvious, therefore, that Poland can best seek compensation 
for the weakness of her geographical position by developing the natural 
resources which lie within her ethnic frontiers. By such a policy the 
different parts of the country will be more closely bound to one another 
than it is possible to bind them on a basis of racial affinity and national 
sentiment alone. Moreover, Poland is essentially the land of the 
Vistula, and whatever is done to improve navigation on that river will 
similarly tend to have a unifying effect upon the country as a whole. 
The mention of the Vistula, however, raises one point where geo- 
graphical and ethnical conditions stand in marked antagonism to one 
another. The Poles have naturally tried to move downstream to the 
mouth of the river which gives their country what little geographical 
individuality it possesses, and the Polish corridor is the expression of 
that movement. On the other hand, the peoples of Hast and West 
Prussia are one and the same. The geographical reasons for giving 
Poland access to the sea are no doubt stronger than the historical reasons 
for leaving Hast Prussia united to the remainder of Germany, but 
strategically the position of the corridor is as bad as it can be, and the 
solution arrived at may not be accepted as final. 

Lastly, we may consider the case of Hast Galicia, which the Poles 
claim not on geographical grounds, because it is in reality part of the 
Ukraine, and not on ethnical grounds, because the great majority of 
the inhabitants are Little Russians, but on the ground that they are 
and have for long been the ruling race in the land. It may also be 
that they are not uninfluenced by the fact that the region contains 
considerable stores of mineral oil. But as the claim of the Poles to 
form an independent State is based on the fact that they form a separate 
race, it is obviously unwise to weaken that claim by annexing a land 
which counts over 3,000,000 Ruthenes to one-third that number of 
Poles. Further, the same argument which the Poles use in regard to 
East Galicia could with no less reason be used by the Germans in 
Upper Silesia. Mr. Keynes, indeed, suggests that the Allies should 
declare that in their judgment economic conditions require the inclusion 
of the coal districts of Upper Silesia in Germany unless the wishes of 
the inhabitants are decidedly to the contrary. It is not improbable 
that Kast Galicia would give a more emphatic vote against Polish rule 
than Upper Silesia will give for it. If Poland is to ensure her position 
she must forget the limits of her former empire, turn her back on the 
Russian plain, with all the temptations which it offers, and resolutely 
set herself to the development of the basin of the Vistula, where alone 
she can find the conditions which make for strength and safety. 

Czecho-Slovakia is in various ways the most interesting country in 
the reconstructed Kurope. Both geographically and ethnically it is 
marked by some features of great strength, and by others which are 
a source of considerable weakness to it. Bohemia by its physical 
structure and its strategic position seems designed by Nature to be 
the home of a strong and homogeneous people. Moravia attaches itself 


more or less naturally to it, since it belongs in part to the Bohemian 
massif and is in part a dependency of that massif. Slovakia is Carpathian 
country, with a strip of the Hungarian plain. Thus, while Bohemia 
‘possesses great geographical individuality and Slovakia is at least 
‘strategically strong, Czecho-Slovakia as a whole does not possess geo- 
graphical unity and is in a sense strategically weak, since Moravia, 
‘which unites the two upland wings of the State, lies across the great 
route which leads from the Adriatic to the plains of Northern Europe. 
The country might easily, therefore, be cut in two as the result of a 
successtul attack, either from the north or from the south. Later I 
‘shall endeavour to indicate certain compensations arising out of this 
diversity of geographical features, but for the moment at least they do 
not affect our argument. 

We have, further, to note that the geographical and ethnical con- 
ditions are not altogether concordant. In Bohemia there is in the 
basin of the Eger in the north-west an almost homogeneous belt of 
German people, and on the north-eastern and south-western border- 
lands there are also strips of country in which the Germanic element 
is in a considerable majority. It is no doubt true, as Mr. Wallis has 
shown, that the Czechs are increasing in number more rapidly than 
the Germans, but on ethnical grounds alone there are undoubtedly 
strong reasons for detaching at least the north-western district from 
the Czecho-Slovak State. We feel justified in arguing, however, that 
here at least the governing factors are and must be geographical. To 
partition a country which seems predestined by its geographical features 
to be united and independent would give rise to an intolerable sense 
of injustice. I do not regard the matter either from the strategic or 
from the economic point of view, though both of these are no doubt 
important. What I have in mind is the influence which the geographical 
conditions of a country exercise upon the political ideas of its inhabi- 
tants. It is easy to denounce, as Mr. Toynbee does, ‘ the pernicious 
doctrine of natural frontiers,’ but they will cease to appeal to the human 
taind only when mountain and river, highland and plain cease to appeal 
to the human imagination. With good sense on both sides the difficulties 
in this particular case are not insurmountable. The Germans of the 
‘Eger valley, which is known as German Bohemia, have never looked 
to Germany for leadership nor regarded it as their home, and their 
main desire has hitherto been to form a separate province in the Austrian 
‘Empire. A liberal measure of autonomy might convert them into 
et citizens, and if they would but condescend to learn the Czech 

imguage they might come to play an important part in the government 
of the country. 

_ In Slovakia also there are racial differences. Within the mountain 
area the Slovaks form the great majority of the population, but in the 
Valleys, and on the plains of the Danube to which the valleys open out, 
the Magyar element. predominates. Moreover, it is the Magyar element 
Which is racially the stronger, and before which the Slovaks are 
radually retiring. Geographical and ethnical conditions therefore 
unite in fixing the political frontier between Magyar and Slovak at the 
meeting place of hill and plain. But on the west such a frontier would 


have been politically inexpedient because of its length and irregularity, 
and economically disadvantageous because the river valleys, of which 
there are about a dozen, would have had no easy means of communi- 
cation with one another or with the outside world. Hence the frontier 
was carried south to the Danube, and about 1,000,000 Magyars were 
included in the total population of 3,500,000. Nor is the prospect of 
assimilating these Magyars particularly bright. The Germans in 
Bohemia are cut off from the Fatherland by mountain ranges, and, as 
we have seen, it does not appear to present any great attraction to them. 
It is otherwise in Slovakia, where the Magyars of the lowland live in 
close touch with those of the Alfold, and it may be long ere they 
forget their connection with them. The danger of transferring terri- 
tory not on geographical or ethnical, but on economic, grounds could 
not be more strikingly illustrated. 

With regard to economic development, the future of the new State 
would appear to be well assured. Bohemia and Moravia were the most 
important industrial areas in the old Austrian Empire, and Slovakia, 
in addition to much good agricultural land, contains considerable stores 
of coal and iron. But if Czecho-Slovakia is to be knit together into a 
political and economic unit, its communications will have to be 
developed. We have already suggested that the geographical diversity 
of the country offers certain compensations for its lack of unity, but 
these cannot be taken advantage of until its different regions are more 
closely knit together than they are at present. The north of Bohemia 
finds its natural outlet both by rail and water through German ports. 
The south-east of Bohemia and Moravia look towards Vienna. In 
Slovakia the railways, with only one important exception, converge upon 
Budapest. The people appear to be alive to the necessity of remedying 
this state of affairs, and no fewer than fifteen new railways have been 
projected, which, when completed, will unite Bohemia and Moravia 
more closely to one another and Slovakia. Moreover, it is proposed 
to develop the waterways of the country by constructing a canal from 
the Danube at Pressburg to the Oder. From this canal another will 
branch off at Prerau and run to Pardubitz on the Elbe, below which 
point that river has still to be canalised. If these improvements are 
carried out the position of Czecho-Slovakia will, for an inland State, 
be remarkably strong. It will have through communication by water 
with the Black Sea, the North Sea, and the Baltic, and some of the 
most important land routes of the Continent already run through it. 
On the other hand, its access to the Adriatic is handicapped by the — 
fact that in order to reach that sea its goods will have to pass through 
the territory of two, if not of three, other States, and however well the 
doctrine of economic rights of way may sound in theory, there are 
undoubted drawbacks to it in practice. Even with the best intentions, 
neighbouring States may fail to afford adequate means of transport, 
through defective organisation, trade disputes, or various other reasons. 
It is probable, therefore, that the development of internal communica- 
tions will in the end be to the advantage of the German ports, and 
more especially of Hamburg. But the other outlets of the State will 
certainly tend towards the preservation of its economic independence. 


The extent to which Rumania has improved her position as a result 
of the war is for the present a matter of speculation. On the one hand 
she has added greatly to the territory which she previously held, 
and superficially she has rendered it more compact; but on the other 
she has lost her unity of outlook, and strategically at least weakened 
her position by the abandonment of the Carpathians as her frontier. 
Again, whereas before the war she had a fairly homogeneous popula- 
tion—probably from 90 to 95 per cent. of the 7,250,000 people in the 
country being of Rumanian stock—she has, by the annexation of 
Transylvania, added an area of 22,000 square miles of territory, in 
which the Rumanians number less than one and a half out of a total 
of two and two-third millions. In that part of the Banat which she 
has obtained there is also a considerable alien element. It is in this 
combination of geographical division and ethnic intermixture that we 
may foresee a danger to Rumanian unity. That part of the State which 
is ethnically least Rumanian is separated from the remainder of the 
country by a high mountain range, and in its geographical outlook no 
less than in the racial sympathies of a great number of its inhabitants 
is turned towards the west, while pre-war Rumania remains pointed 
towards the south-east. Economically also there is a diversity of 
interest, and the historical tie is perhaps the most potent factor in 
binding the two regions together. It is not impossible, therefore, that 
two autonomous States may eventually be established, more or less 
closely united according to circumstances. 

The position in the Dobruja is also open to criticism. Geographi- 
cally the region belongs to Bulgaria, and the Danube will always be 
regarded as their true frontier by the Bulgarian people. Ethnically its 
composition is very mixed, and whatever it was originally, it certainly 
was not a Rumanian land. But after the Rumanians had rather un- 
willingly been compelled to accept it in exchange for Bessarabia, filched 
from them by the Russians, their numbers increased and their economic 
development of the region, and more especially of the port of Con- 
stanza, undoubtedly gave them some claims to the northern part of it. 
As so often happens, however, when a country receives part of a natural 
region beyond its former boundaries, Rumania is fertile in excuses for 
annexing more of the Dobruja. To the southern part, which she 
received after the Balkan wars, and in the possession of which she 
has been confirmed by the peace terms with Bulgaria, she has neither 
ethnically nor economically any manner of right. The southern 
Dobruja is a fertile area which, before its annexation, formed the 
natural hinterland of the ports of Varna and Ruschuk. Her occupation 
A it will inevitably draw Rumania on to further intervention in Bulgarian 

The arrangements which have been made with regard to the Banat 
must be considered in relation to the Magyar position in the Hungarian 
plain. The eastern country of the Banat, Krasso-Szérény, has a 
population which is in the main Rumanian, and as it belongs to the 
Carpathian area it is rightly included with Transylvania in Rumanian 
territory. In the remainder of the Banat, including Arad, the 
Rumanians form less than one-third of the total population, which also 


comprises Magyars, Germans, and Serbs. The Hungarian plain is a 
great natural region, capable of subdivision no doubt, but still a great 
natural region, in which the Magyar element is predominant. The 
natural limit of that plain is the mountain region which surrounds it, 
and to that limit at least the Magyar political power will constantly 
press. But Rumania has been permitted to descend from the moun- 
tains and Jugo-Slavia to cross the great river which forms her natural 
boundary, and both have obtained a foothold on the plain where it may 
be only too easy for them to seek occasion for further advances. And it 
cannot be urged that the principle of self-determination would have 
been violated by leaving the Western Banat to the Magyars. No 
plébiscite was taken, and it is impossible to say how the German element 
would have given what in the circumstances would have been the 
determining vote. Finally, as it was necessary to place nearly a mil- 
lion Magyars in Transylvania under Rumanian rule, it might not have 
been altogether inexpedient to leave some Rumanians on Hungarian 

For the extension of Jugo-Slavia beyond the Danube two pleas have 
been advanced, one ethnical and the other strategic. Neither is really 
valid. It is true that there is a Serbian area to the north of Belgrade, 
but the total number of Serbs within the part assigned to Jugo-Slavia 
probably does not much exceed 300,000. ‘The strategic argument that 
the land which they occupy is necessary for the defence of the capital 
is equally inconclusive. From the military point of view it does not 
easily lend itself to defensive operations, and when we consider the 
political needs of the country we cannot avoid the conclusion that a 
much better solution might have been found in the removal of the 
capital to some more central position. ‘The Danube is certainly a better 
defensive frontier than the somewhat arbitrary line which the Supreme 
Council has drawn across the Hungarian plain. 

In fact, it is in the treatment of the Hungarian plain that we feel 
most disposed to criticise the territorial settlements of the Peace 
Treaties. Geographical principles have been violated by the dismem- 
berment of a region in which the Magyars were in a majority, and in 
which they were steadily improving their position. Hthnical principles 
have been violated, both in the north, where a distinctly Magyar region 
has been added to Slovakia, and in the south, where the eastern Banat 
and Backa have been divided between the Rumanians and the Jugo- 
Slavs, who together forma minority of the total population. For the 
transfer of Arad to Rumania and of the Burgenland to Austria more 
is to be said, but the position as a whole is one of unstable equilibrium, 
and can only be maintained by support from without. In this part of 
Europe at least a League of Nations will not have to seek for its troubles. 

When we turn to Austria we are confronted with the great tragedy in 
the reconstruction of Europe. Of that country it could once be said 
‘Bella gerant alii, tu felix Austria nube,’ but to-day, when dynastic 
bonds have been loosened, the constituent parts of the great but hetero- 
geneous empire which she thus built up have each gone its own way. 
And for that result Austria herself is to blame. She failed to realise 
that an empire such as hers could only be permanently retained on a 


basis of-common political and economic interest. Instead of adopt- 
ing such a policy, however, she exploited rather than developed the 
subject. nationalities, and to-day their economic, no less than their 
political, independence of her is vital to their existence. Thus it is that 
the Austrian capital, which occupies a situation unrivalled in Kurope, 
and. which before the war numbered over 2,000,000 souls, finds herself 
with her occupation gone. For the moment Vienna is not necessary 
either to Austria or to the so-called Succession States, and she will not 
be necessary to them until she again has definite functions to perform. 
I do not overlook the fact that Vienna is also an industrial city, and 
that it, as well as various other towns in Lower Austria, are at present 
unable to obtain either raw materals for their industries or foodstuffs 
for their inhabitants. But there are already indications that this state 
of affairs. will shortly be ameliorated by economic treaties with the 
neighbouring States. . And what I am particularly concerned with 
is not the temporary but the permanent effects of the change which has 
taken place... The entire political re-orientation of Austria is necessary 
if she is to emerge successfully from her present trials, and such a 
re-orientation must be brought about with due regard to geographical 
and ethnical conditions, The two courses which are open to her lead 
in opposite directions. On the one hand she may become a member 
of a Danubian confederation, on the other she may throw in her lot 
with the German people. The first would really imply an attempt to 
restore the economic position which she held before the war, but it is 
questionable whether it is either. possible or expedient for her to make 
such an attempt... A Danubian confederation twill inevitably be of 
slow growth, as it is only under the pressure of economic necessity 
that it will. be. joined by the various. nationalities of south- 
eastern Europe. The suggestions made by Mr. Asquith, Mr. 
Keynes, and others, for a compulsory free-trade union would, if carried 
into effect, be provocative of the most intense resentment among most, 
if not all, of the States concerned. But even if a Danubian confedera- 
tion were established it does not follow that Austria would be able to 
play a part in it similar to that which she played in the Dual Monarchy, 
With the construction of new railways and the growth of new com- 
mercial centres it is probable that much of the trade with the south- 
east of Europe which formerly passed through Vienna will in future go 
to the east of that city, Even now Pressburg, or Bratislava, to give it 
the name, by which it will hence be known, is rapidly developing at the 
expense alike of Vienna and Budapest. Finally, Austria has,in the 
past shown little capacity to understand the Slay peoples, and in any 
ease her position in what would primarily be a Slav confederation would 
be an invidious one. For these reasons we turn to the suggestion that 
Austria should enter the German Empire, which, both on geographical 
and on ethnical grounds, would appear to be her proper place. _ Geo- 
graphically she is German, because the bulk of the territory left to her 
belongs either to, the Alpine range or to the Alpine foreland. It is 
only when we reach the basin of Vienna that we leave the mid-world 
mountain system and look towards the south-east of Europe across 
the great Hungarian plain. Ethnically, of course, she is essentially 


German. Now although my argument hitherto has rather endeavoured 
to show that the transfer of territory from one State to another on 
purely economic grounds is seldom to be justified, it is equally indefen- 
sible to argue that two States which are geographically and ethnically 
related are not to be allowed to unite their fortunes because it would 
be to their interest to do so. And that it would be to their interest 
there seems little doubt. Austria would still be able to derive some 
of her raw materials and foodstuffs from the Succession States, and she 
would have, in addition, a great German area in which she would find 
scope for her commercial and financial activities. Even if Naumann 
were but playing the part of the Tempter, who said ‘ All these things 
will I give thee if thou wilt fall down and worship me,’ he undoubtedly 
told the truth when he said ‘ The whole of Germany is now more open 
to the Viennese crafts than ever before. The Viennese might make 
an artistic conquest extending to Hamburg and Danzig.’ But not only 
would Austria find a market for her industrial products in Germany, she 
would become the great trading centre between Germany and south-east 
Europe, and in that way would once more be, but in a newer and 
better sense than before, the Ostmark of the German people. 

The absorption of Austria in Germany is opposed by France, mainly 
because she cannot conceive that her great secular struggle with the 
people on the other side of the Rhine will ever come to an end, and 
she fears the addition of 6,500,000 to the population of her ancient 
enemy. But quite apart from the fact that Germany and Austria 
cannot permanently be prevented from following a common destiny if 
they so desire, and apart from the fact that politically it is desirable 
they should do so with at least the tacit assent of the Allied Powers 
rather than in face of their avowed hostility, there are reasons for 
thinking that any danger to which France might be exposed by the 
additional man-power given to Germany would be more than compen- 
sated for by the altered political condition in Germany herself. Vienna 
would form an effective counterpoise to Berlin, and all the more so 
because she is a great geographical centre, while Berlin is more or 
less a political creation. The South German people have never loved 
the latter city, and to-day they love her less than ever. In Vienna 
they would find not only a kindred civilisation with which they would 
be in sympathy, but a political leadership to which they would readily 
give heed. In such a Germany, divided in its allegiance between Berlin 
and Vienna, Prussian animosity to France would be more or less 
neutralised. Nor would Germany suffer disproportionately to her gain, 
since in the intermingling of Northern efficiency with Southern culture 
she would find a remedy for much of the present discontents. When 
the time comes, and Austria seeks to ally herself with her kin, we 
hope that no impassable obstacle will be placed in her way. 

The long and as yet unsettled controversy on the limits of the 
Italian Kingdom illustrates very well the difficulties which may arise 
when geographical and ethnical conditions are subordinated to con- 
siderations of military strategy, history, and sentiment in the deter- 
mination of national boundaries. The annexation of the Alto Adige 
has been generally accepted as inevitable. It is true that 


the population is German, but here, as in Bohemia, geographical 
conditions appear to speak the final word. Strategically also the 
frontier is good, and will do much to allay Italian anxiety with regard 
to the future. Hence, although ethnical conditions are to some extent 
ignored, the settlement which has been made will probably be a lasting 

On the east the natural frontier of Italy obviously runs across the 
uplands from some point near the eastern extremity of the Carnic 
Alps to the Adriatic. The pre-war frontier was unsatisfactory for one 
reason because it assigned to Austria the essentially Italian region of 
the lower Isonzo. But once the lowlands are left on the west the 
uplands which border them on fhe east, whether Alpine or Karst, 
mark the natural limits of the Italian Kingdom, and beyond a position 
on them for strategic reasons the Italians have no claims in this direc- 
tion except what they can establish on ethnical grounds. To these, 
therefore, we turn. In Carniola the Slovenes are in a large majority, 
and in Gorizia they also form the bulk of the population. On the 
other hand, in the town and district of Trieste the Italians predominate, 
and they also form a solid block on the west coast of Istria, though 
the rest of that country is peopled mainly by Slovenes. It seems to 
follow, therefore, that the plains of the Isonzo, the district of Trieste, 
and the west coast of Istria, with as much of the neighbouring upland 
as is necessary to secure their safety and communications, should be 
Italian and that the remainder should pass to the Jugo-Slavs. The 
so-called Wilson line, which runs from the neighbourhood of Tarvis 
fo the mouth of the Arsa, met these requirements fairly 
well, though it placed from 300,000 to 400,000 Jugo-Slavs under 
Italian rule, to less than 50,000 Italians, half of whom are 
in Fiume itself transferred to the Jugo-Slavs. Any additional 
territory must, by incorporating a larger alien element, be a 
source of weakness and not of strength to Italy. To Fiume the 
Italians have no claim beyond the fact that in the town itself they 
slightly outnumber the Croats, though in the double town of Fiume- 
‘Sushak there is a large Slav majority. Beyond the sentimental reasons 
which they urge in public, however, there is the economic argument, 
which, perhaps wisely, they keep in the background. So long as 
Trieste and Fiume belonged to the same empire the limits within 
which each operated were fairly well defined, but if Fiume become 
Jugo-Slav it will not only prove a serious rival to Trieste, but will 
prevent Italy from exercising absolute control over much of the trade 
of Central Europe. For Trieste itself Italy has in truth little need, 
and the present condition of that city is eloquent testimony of the 
extent to which it depended for its prosperity upon the Austrian and 
German Empires. In the interests, then, not only of Jugo-Slavia 
buf of Europe generally, Fiume must not become Italian, and the 
idea of constituting it a Free State might well be abandoned. Its 
development is more fully assured as the one great port of Jugo-Slavia 
than under any other form of government. 

With regard to Italian claims in the Adriatic, little need be said. 
fp the Dalmatian coast Italy has no right either on geographical or on 



ethnical grounds, and the possession of Pola, Valona, and some of the 
islands gives her all the strategic advantages which she has reason to 
demand. But, after all, the only danger which could threaten her in 
the Adriatic would come from Jugo-Slavia, and her best insurance 
against that danger would be an agreement by which the Adriatic should 
be neutralised. The destruction of the Austro-Hungarian fleet offers 
ltaly a great opportunity of which she would do well to take advantage. 

Of the prospects of Jugo-Slavia it is hard to speak with any feeling 
of certainty. | With the exception of parts of Croatia-Slavonia and of 
Southern Hungary, the country is from the physical point of view 
essentially Balkan, and diversity rather than unity is its most pro- 
nounced characteristic. From this physical diversity there naturally 
results a diversity in outlook which might indeed be all to the good if 
the different parts of the country were linked together by a well- 
developed system of communication. Owing to the structure of the 
land, however, such a system will take long to complete. 

Ethnic affinity forms the real basis of union, but whether that 
union implies unity is another matter. It is arguable that repulsion 
from the various peoples—Magyars, Turks, and Austrians—by whom 
they have been oppressed, rather than the attraction of kinship, is the 
foree which has brought the Jugo-Slavs together. In any case the | 
obstacles in the way of the growth of a strong national feeling are many. 
Serb, Croat, and Slovene, though they are all members of the Slav — 
family, have each their distinctions and characteristics which political 
differences may tend to exaggerate rather than obliterate. In Serbian : 
Macedonia, again, out of a total population of 1,100,000, there are 
400,000 to 500,000 people who, though Slavs, are Bulgarian in their 
sympathies, and between Serb and Bulgarian there will long be bitter 
enmity. Religious differences are not wanting. The Serbs belong to 
the Orthodox Church, but the Croats are Catholics, and in Bosnia there 
is a strong Mohammedan element. Cultural conditions show a wide 
range. The Macedonian Serb, who has but lately escaped from 
Turkish misrule, the untutored but independent Montenegrin, the Dal-— 
matian, with his long traditions of Italian civilisation, the Serb of the 
kingdom, a sturdy fighter but without great political insight, and the 
Croat and Slovene, whose intellectual superiority is generally admitted, © 
all stand on different levels in the scale of civilisation. To build up out — 
of elements in many respects so diverse a common nationality without 
destroying what is best in each will be a long and laborious task. — 
Heonomic conditions are not likely to be of much assistance. It is true 
that they are fairly uniform throughout Jugo-Slavia, and it is improbable 
that the economic interests of different regions will conflict to any great 
extent. On the other hand, since each region is more or less self- 
supporting, they will naturally unite into an economic whole less easily 
than if there had been greater diversity. What the future holds for 
Jugo-Slavia it is as yet impossible to say; but the country is one of 
great potentialities, and a long period of political rest might render 
possible the development of an important State. 

This brings me to my conclusion. I have endeavoured to consider 
the great changes which have been made in Europe not in regard to 


the extent to which they do or do not comply with the canons of 
boundary-making, for after all there are no frontiers in Europe which 
can in these days of modern warfare be considered as providing a sure 
defence, but in regard rather to the stability of the States concerned. 
A great experiment has been made in the new settlement of Europe, 
and an experiment which contains at least the germs of success. But 
in many ways it falls far short of perfection, and even if it were 
perfect it could not be permanent.. The methods which ought to be 
adopted to render it more equable and to adapt it to changing needs 
it is not for us to discuss here. But as geographers engaged in the 
study of the ever-changing relations of man to his environment we can 
play an important part in the formation of that enlightened public 
opinion upon which alone a society of nations can be established, 

1920 J 





J. H. CLAPHAM, C.B.E., Litt.D., 

Ir is, I think, a President’s first duty to record the losses which 
economic science has sustained since the Association last met. A year 
ago we had just lost, on the academic side, Archdeacon Cunningham, 
and on the side of affairs, Sir Edward Holden. This year, happily, I 
have no such losses to record in either field. But it is right to name 
the death of a late enemy, Professor Gustav Cohn, of Gdttingen, an 
economist of the first rank, who had made a special study of English 
affairs. I believe that no student of our railway history would fail to 
place Cohn’s ‘ Inquiries into English Railway Policy,’ published (in 
German) so long ago as 1873, first on the unfortunately very short list 
of scientific works devoted to that side of history. Kven when supple- 
mented by an additional volume, issued ten years later, it covers only 
what seems to-day the prehistoric period of our policy—before the 
Act of 1888 and very long before our present uncertainties—but it is 
not yet out of date. Cohn died full of years. He was nearly eighty. 
I may mention, perhaps, with his name that of a much younger, and 
possibly more brilliant, German economist, Max Weber, of Munich, 
who has died at the age of fifty-six. He once tried to explain, by a 
study of Puritan theology, the economic qualities of the Nonconformist 
business man—a very fascinating study. But his work as a whole has 
not roused much interest in England. 

By an accident the three scholars whose names I have mentioned 
were all best known, in England at any rate, as historians. And, with 
your indulgence, I will do what I think has seldom been done from 
this chair, in making my address largely historical. History has been 
my main business in life; and it has occurred to me that some com- 
parisons between the economic condition of Europe after the great 
wars of a century ago and its condition to-day may not be without 
interest. Historical situations are never reproduced, even approxi- 
mately; but it is at least interesting to recall the post-war problems 
which our grandfathers or great-grandfathers had to face, and how 
they handled them; to ask how far our sufferings and anxieties have 
had their parallels in the not remote past; and to note some danger 


signals. By ‘we’ I mean not the British only, but all the peoples of 
Western and Central Europe. Of Eastern Europe I will only speak 
incidentally ; for I am unable as yet to extract truth from the conflicting 
and biassed evidence as to its economic condition. Moreover, there is 
still war in the Kast. 

In 1815 France had been engaged in almost continuous wars for 
twenty-three, England for twenty-two, years. The German States 
had been at war less continuously; but they had been fought over, 
conquered, and occupied by the French. Prussia, for instance, was 
overthrown in 1806. When the final struggle against Napoleon began, 
in 1812, there was a French army of occupation of nearly 150,000 men 
in Prussia alone. From 1806 to 1814 Napoleon’s attempt to exclude 
English trade from the Continent had led to the English blockade— 
with its striking resemblances to, and its striking differences from, the 
blockade of 1914-19. Warfare was less horribly intense, and so less 
economically destructive, than it has become in our day; but what it 
lacked in intensity it made up in duration. 

Take, for instance, the loss of life. For England it was relatively 
small—because for us the wars were never people’s wars. In France 
also it was relatively small in the earlier years, when armies of the 
old size were mainly employed. But under Napoleon it became enor- 
mous. Exact figures do not exist, but French statisticians are disposed 
to place the losses in the ten years that ended with Waterloo at fully 
1,500,000. Some place them higher. As the population of France 
grew about 40 per cent. between 1805-15 and 1904-14, this would 
correspond to a loss of, say, 2,100,000 on the population of 1914. The 
actual losses in 1914-18 are put at 1,370,000 killed and missing; and 
I believe these figures contain some colonial troops. 

Or take the debts accumulated by victors and the requisitions or 
indemnities extorted from the vanquished. The wars of a century ago 
left the British debt at 848,000,000/. According to our success or 
failure in securing repayment of loans made to Dominions and Allies, 
the Great War will have left us with a liability of from eight to nine 
times that amount. Whether our debt-carrying capacity is eight or nine 
times what it was a century ago may be doubted, and cannot be 
accurately determined. But it is not, I would venture to say, less than 
Six or seven times what it was, and it might well be more. A good 
deal depends on future price levels. At least the burdens are com- 
parable ; and we understand better now where to look for broad shoulders 
to bear them. 

After Waterloo France was called upon to pay a war indemnity of 
only 28,000,0001., to be divided among all the victors. With this figure 
Prussia was thoroughly dissatisfied. Not, I think, without some 
reason. She reckoned that Napoleon had squeezed out of her alone, 
between 1806 and 1812, more than twice as much—a tremendous exac- 
tion, for she was in those days a very poor land of squires and peasants, 
whose treasury received only a few millions a year. England, who 
was mainly responsible—and that for sound political reasons—for the 
low figure demanded of France, found herself, the victor, in the curious 
position of being far more heavily burdened with debt than France, who 



had lost. England, of course, had acquired much colonial territory ; 
but on the purely financial side the comparison between her and France 
was most unequal. England’s total national debt in 1817 was 
848,000,0001. France’s debt did not reach 200,000,0001. until 1830. 

The reasons why France came out. of the wars so well financially 
were four. First, she had gone bankrupt during the Revolution, and 
had wiped out most of her old debt. Second, under Napoleon she had 
made war pay for itself, as the case of Prussia shows. Third, there 
was No financial operation known to the world in 1815 by which 
England’s war debt, or even half of it, could have been transferred to 
France. Fourth, England never suggested any such transference, or, 
so far as I know, ever even discussed it. 

France’s financial comfort, immediately after her defeat, extended 
to her currency. During the Revolution she had made a classical experi- 
ment in the mismanagement of credit documents, with the assignats 
issued on the security of confiscated Church property ; but after that she 
had put her currency in good order. Her final defeat in 1812-14, and 
again in 1815, did not seriously derange it. Indeed, the English 
currency was in worse order than the French, owing to the suspension 
of cash payments by the Bank of England; and so rapidly did France’s 
credit recover after 1815 that in 1818 French 5 per cents stood at 
almost exactly the present-day price of British 5 per cent War Loan. 
That year she finished the payment of her war indemnity, and the last 
armies of oceupation withdrew. 

She had no doubt gained by waging war, and eventually suffering 
defeat, on foreign soil. No French city had been burnt like Moscow, 
stormed like Badajoz, or made the heart of a gigantic battle ike Leipzig. 
Napoleon fought one brilliant defensive campaign on French soil, in 
the valleys of the Marne and the Seine, in 1814. In 1815 his fate was 
decided in Belgium. Hardly a shot was fired in France; hardly a French 
cornfield was trampled down. But France, as in 1918, was terribly 
short of men, and, again as in 1918, her means of communication had 
suffered. Napoleon’s magnificent roads—he was among the greatest 
of road engineers—had gone out of repair; his great canal works had 
been suspended. ‘These things, however, were soon set right by the 
Government which followed him. 

France’s rapid recovery brings us to one of the essential differences 
between Western Europe a century ago and Western Europe to-day. 
In spite of Paris and her other great towns, the France of 1815 was a 
rural country, a land of peasants and small farmers. Only about 10 per 
cent, of her population lived in towns of 10,000 inhabitants or more. 
The town below 10,000, in all countries, is more often a rural market 
town, ultimately dependent on the prosperity of agriculture, than an 
industrial centre. Parallels for France’s condition must be sought 
to-day in Eastern Europe—in Serbia or Russia. It is a condition which 
makes the economics of demobilisation easy. The young peasant goes 
back from the armies to relieve his father, his mother, and his sisters, 
who have kept the farm going. Moreover, France maintained a stand- 
ing army of 240,000 men after 1815; and her losses in the Waterloo 
campaign had been so heavy that the actual numbers demobilised were 


relatively small. Demobilisation left hardly a ripple on the surface of 
her economic life. 

The German States were far more rural in character even than 
France. There were a few industrial districts, of a sort, in the West 
and in Saxony; a few trading towns of some size, like Hamburg and 
Frankfurt ; but there was nowhere a city comparable to Paris. In 1819 
the twenty-five cities which were to become in our day the greatest 
of the modern German Empire had not 1,250,000 inhabitants between 
them. Paris alone at that time had about 700,000. German statesmen, 
when peace came, were occupied not with problems arising from the 
situation of the urban wage-earner, though such problems existed, but 
with how to emancipate the peasants from the condition of semi-servility 
in which they had lived during the previous century. Here, too, demo- 
bilisation presented few of the problems familiar to us. Probably not 
one man in ten demobilised was a pure wage-earner. The rest had 
links with the soil. The land, neglected during the war, was crying out 
for labour, and every man had his place, even if it was a servile place, 
in rural society. 

Things were different in England; but our demobilisation problem 
was smaller than that of our Continental allies or enemies, who had 
mobilised national armies, though not of the modern size. On the other 
hand, we had kept an immense fleet in commission, the crews of which 
were rapidly discharged. arly in 1817 Lord Castlereagh stated in 
Parliament that 300,000 soldiers and sailors had been discharged since 
the peace. In proportion to population, that would be equivalent, for 
the whole United Kingdom, to nearly 750,000 to-day. For these men 
no provision whatever was made. They were simply thrown on the 
labour market; and the vast majority of them were ex-wage-earners or 
potential wage-earners, industrial, mercantile, or agricultural. The 
United Kingdom was not urbanised as it is to-day; but the census of 
1821 showed that 21 per cent. of the population lived in cities of 20,000 
inhabitants and upwards, and probably about 27 per cent. (as compared 
with France’s 10 per cent.) lived in places of 10,000 and upwards. As 
industry in various forms, especially coal-mining, spinning, and weaving, 
was extensively carried on in rural or semi-rural districts, it is certain 
that at least one demobilised man of working age in every three was a 
potential wage-earner of industry or commerce. And as Great Britain 
had lost most of her peasant-holders, whether owners or small working 
farmers, the remainder of the demobilised rank and file were nearly all 
of the agricultural labourer class. They had to find employment ; there 
was not a place in rural society waiting for them, as there was for the 
average French or German peasant soldier. It is not surprising that 
the years from 1815 to 1820 were, both economically and politically, 
inane the most wretched, difficult, and dangerous in modern English 


Things were at their worst in 1816-17, both for England and for her 
Continental neighbours. Western Europe was very near starvation. 
Had the harvest of 1815 not been excellent, so providing a carry-over 
of corn, or had the harvest of 1817 been much below the average, 
there must have been widespread disaster; so thorough and universal 


was the harvest failure of 1816. In the latter part of 1816 (Decem- 
ber) wheat fell in England to 55s. 7d., although no grain imports were 
allowed, except of oats. LHarly in 1816 the United Kingdom was 
actually exporting a little wheat. Then came a terrible spring—a long 
frost; snow lying about Edinburgh in May; all the rivers of Western 
Europe in flood. An equally disastrous summer followed. There was 
dearth, in places amounting to real famine, everywhere—worst of all in 
Germany. Unlike France, the German States of a century ago were 
extraordinarily ill-provided with roads. What roads there were had 
gone to pieces in the wars. In winter even the mails could hardly get 
through with sixteen and twenty horses. Food supplies could not be 
moved over long distances by land; and the slightly more favoured 
regions could not help the most unfortunate. There was a far wider 
gap between prices in Kastern and Western Germany in 1816 than there 
had been in the last bad famine year (1772). Hach German State, in 
its. anxiety, began to forbid export early in 1816, thus making things 
worse. At Frankfurt, the representatives of the German States, 
gathered for the Diet, could hardly feed their horses. Prices rose 
amazingly and quite irregularly, with the varying food conditions of the 
various provinces. In the spring of 1817 pallid, half-starved people 
were wandering the fields, hunting for and grubbing up overlooked and 
rotten potatoes of the last year’s crop. 

In England the harvest failure of 1816 drove wheat up to 103s. 7d. 
a quarter for December of that year, and to 112s. 8d. for June of 
1817. In Paris the June price in 1817 was equivalent to 122s. dd. 
At Stuttgart the May price was equivalent to 138s. 7d. These are 
only samples. Think what these figures mean at a time when an 
English agricultural labourer’s wage was about 9s. 6d., and a French 
or German unskilled wage far less. It must be recalled that there 
were no special currency causes of high prices either in France or 
Germany. ‘These were real dearth prices. In the spring of 1817 the 
French Government was buying corn wherever it could find it—in 
England, North Africa, America—as another bad harvest was feared. 
Happily, the 1817 harvest was abundant, here and on the Continent. 
By September the Mark Lane price of wheat was 77s. 7d., and the 
Paris price 71s. Od. 

I have gone into price details for the purpose of drawing a contrast 
between a century ago and to-day. Except for the damage done to 
the German roads, the wars had very little to do with these food 
troubles of 1816-17. High and fluctuating food prices were the natural 
consequence of the general economic position of Western Europe a 
century ago. It was only in the most comfortable age in all history— 
the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries—that low and stable 
food prices came to be regarded as normal. In the eighteenth century, 
when England fed herself and often had an exportable surplus, fluctua- 
tions were incessant. Take the ten years 1750-1760. The mean price 
of wheat at Eton in 1752 was 45 per cent. above the mean price in 1750. 
The mean price in 1757 was nearly 100 per cent. above the mean price 
of 1750. On Lady Day 1757 the price was 60s. 5jd. On Lady Day 
1759 it was 37s. 4d. On Lady Day 1761 it was 26s. 8d. The 1761 
mean price was exactly half the 1757 mean price. 


Highteenth-century England was too well organised economically 
to be in much risk of actual famine, but for Ireland and large parts of 
the Continent famine was a normal risk, War and its effects had only 
accentuated, not created, that risk. Imports might reduce it, but could 
not avert it, because Western Europe tends to have approximately the 
same harvest conditions throughout, and it was impossible to draw 
really large supplementary supplies from anywhere else. So unim- 
portant were overseas supplies that the Continent suffered very much 
more from the harvest failure of 1816, in time of peace, than from the 
eight years’ English blockade in time of war. If overseas supplies 
could be got they were hard to distribute, owing to defective transport 
facilities. Thanks to the work of the nineteenth century, the most 
terrific of all wars was required to bring Western Europe face to face 
with what had been both a war-time and a peace-time risk a century 

But the old Europe, if it had the defects, had also the elasticity of 
a rather primitive economic organism. Given a couple of good harvests, 
and a land of peasants soon recovers from war. Serbia had a good 
harvest last year (1919), and was at once in a state of comparative 
comfort, in spite of her years of suffering. A second good harvest 
this year, for which fortunately the prospects are favourable, would 
almost restore her. So it was with France and, to a less extent, 
Germany in 1816-18. In France acute distress in 1816-17 had been 
confined to the towns and to those country districts where the harvest 
failure was worst. The harvest of *17 put an end to it. One gets the 
impression that in Germany distress among the peasants themselves 
had been more widespread. Worse communications and the absence of 
a strong central Government seem to have been the chief causes of 
this, though perhaps the harvest failure was more complete. In 
Trance, as we have seen, the central Government took such action 
as was possible in the interests of the whole country. A parallel 
might be drawn between the German situation in 1815-17 and that 
of the States which have arisen from the break-up of the old Austro- 
Hungarian Empire since 1918. Freed from French domination, and 
then from the urgent necessity of co-operating against a common 
enemy, the German States relapsed into their ancient jealousies and 
conflicting economic policies, just as the new States, which were 
once subject to the Hapsburgs, have been forbidding exports of food 
and fuel and disputing with one another. 

An excellent harvest in 1817 averted the risk of famine in Germany 
also; but anything that could be called prosperity was long delayed, 
whereas France was indisputably prosperous, judged by the standards 
of the day, and far more contented than England, by 1818-20. Germany 
had been so exhausted by the wars and incessant territorial changes 
of the Napoleonic age, and was politically so divided, that her economic 
life remained stagnant and her poverty great until at least 1830. It 
was all that the various Governments could do to find money for the 
most essential of all economic measures—the repair and construction 
of roads—whereas France had her splendid main roads in order again 
and had resumed work on her canals before 1820. But France had 


cut her losses nearly twenty years before, and had enjoyed continuous 
treedom from war on her own territory between 1794 and 1814, as we 
have seen. She had been well, if autocratically , governed, and her war 
indemnity was but a trifling burden. Jer peasants were free and, as 
a class, vigorous and hopeful. She was united and conscious of her 
leadership in Europe, even through her ultimate defeats. 

If the experience of Hurope after Waterloo is, on the whole, of good 
augury for agricultural States, and especially for agricultural States 
with a competent central Government, for the industrialised modern 
world that experience is less encouraging. Great Britain alone was 
partially industrialised in 1815-20, and Great Britain, though victorious, 
suffered acutely. Mismanagement was largely responsible for her 
sufferings—mismanagement of, or rather, complete indifference to, 
problems of demobilisation; mismanagement of taxes (the income tax 
was abandoned at the clamour of interested parties, and the interest on 
the huge debt paid mainly from indirect taxes, which bore heavily 
on the poor); mismanagement of food supplies, by the imposition of the 
Corn Law; and so on. But suffering due to international economic dis- 
location followmg war could not have been avoided by management, 
however good. The situation was unique. England alone of the Kuro- 
pean Powers had developed her manufactures to some extent on what 
we call modern lines. During the wars she had accumulated also great 
stores of colonial and American produce, which could only get into 
Kurope with difficulty—by way of smuggling. In 1813, before Napo- 
leon’s first fall, her manufacturers and merchants were eagerly awaiting 
peace. In 1814 manufactures and colonial produce were rushed over, 
only to find that, much as Europe desired them, it could not pay the 
price. It had not enough to give in exchange; and England, being 
rigidly protectionist. was not always prepared to buy even what Europe 
had to give. There was no machinery for international buying credits. 
Merchants shipped at their own risks, usually as a venture, not against 
a firm order as to-day, and they had to bear their own losses—often up 
to 50 per cent. Continental economic historians have hardly yet for- 
given us for this ‘dumping,’ which both drained away the precious 
metals to Kngland—as there was not much else to pay with—and did 
a great deal of harm to the struggling young factory industries which 
had begun to grow up under the protection of Napoleon’s anti-English 
commercial policy. 

British exporters were so badly bitten in 1814 that, when peace 
finally came next year, after Waterloo, they were nervous of giving 
orders at home—which was very bad for the manufacturing industries 
and for the men who sought employment in them. There was the 
curious situation in 1816 that, while the price of wheat was rushing 
up, most other prices were falling, the bottom of the market being 
often reached at the end of the year, when the confidence of buyers 
and shippers began to revive. Raw cotton, for instance, which had 
touched 2s. 6d. a lb. in 1813-14, fell to a minimum of 1s. 2d. in 
1816—although Europe was open and cotton badly needed. 

It is as yet too early to work out a parallel between this post-war 
sommercial and industrial slump. and the slump that followed the Great, 



War of 1914-18, for we have not yet had it. But it is coming. More 
certainly, I am inclined to believe, in the United States than in Eng- 
land; but pretty certainly here also. I say more certainly in the United 
States because her position bears most resemblance to that of Hngland 
in 1815-17. Consider that position. What before the war was, on 
the balance, a debtor country has become a creditor country. That 
creditor is equipped to export both raw materials and manufactures— 
iron and steel goods particularly—on a huge scale. It is true she is a 
heavy importer of some foods, such as sugar, coffee, and tea, and of 
certain raw materials, such as rubber, timber, and wool. But, owing 
to her tariff system and her general policy, she is reluctant to take many 
things which her debtors have to offer. Her recent ‘ dry’ policy, for 
example, has shut her markets to one of France’s most valuable 
exports, an export with which France has always been in the habit 
of paying her creditors. Already, I notice, American business men 
are beginning to point out what English business men stated clearly 
in a famous document, the Petition of the London Merchants, a 
century ago—that the country which will not buy, neither shall it sell. 
This was the most solid of all free-trade arguments in the early nine- 
teenth century, and it has lost none of its force. No doubt America 
is, and will be, glad to take part payment in gold, just as England 
was in 1814-16. But that is not a permanent solution. If she remains 
a creditor nation—and there is no present reason to think that she 
will not—she must in time arrange to take more goods from outside. 
Her political processes, however, are slow; and it seems unlikely that 
she will have adjusted her policy before the post-war slump is upon 

The United Kingdom, which, on the whole, still takes freely what 
its customers have to offer it, is in a better position, provided its 
customers can go on offering. This may prove an important proviso. 
Customers who have been litile hurt or even helped by the war—Spain, 
perhaps, or Egypt, or India, or New Zealand—should continue good 
buyers. But the uncertainty gives cause for anxious thought in the 
ease of the war-damaged nations, allied and ex-enemy. Modern financial 
and commercial organisation has postponed the critical moment in 
a way that was impossible a century ago. When Europe was hungry 
in 1816 there were not food surpluses available anywhere on the earth, 
nor shipping enough on the seas, nor means of transport good enough 
on land, to relieve her need. If, per impossibile, there had been all 
these things, there would have been no country or group of business 
men anywhere ready to give her the necessary credit on a large scale. 
The Rothschilds, a young firm in those days, did something. They 
advanced money to a few German princes to buy corn for their people 
at the Baltic ports, for there was some corn to spare from Poland and 
Russia. But the huge food-financing operations of 1918-20 would have 
been as unthinkable as the actual handling of the foodstuffs would 
‘have been impossible. Had two harvests like that of 1816 come in 
succession, there would have been famine and food riots everywhere, 
past hope of cure. 

Similarly modern finance is postponing the critical moment for the 


international trade in manufactures. _ British business men in 1919-20 
have not, I believe, often sent their goods abroad in hope of finding 
a vent for them, and then been forced to content themselves with 
prices far below cost of production, as their grandfathers were in 1814-16. 
Every kind of financial device—long private credit, assistance from 
banks, credits given by Governments—has been called in, so that trade 
may be resumed before the war-damaged nations are in a position to 
pay for what they need by exporting the produce of their own labour. 
The more industrial the damaged nation is, the more complex is the 
restarting of her economic activity. Corn grows in nine months, and 
pigs breed fast. The start once given, countries like Denmark and 
Serbia, both of which are normally great exporters of pigs or bacon, 
could soon pay for necessary imports of machinery or fertilisers bought 
on long credit to restart their rural industries. The United Kingdom, 
the least damaged of all the combatants except America, is believed 
by the Chancellor of the Exchequer to be now rather more than paying 
its way. That may be sanguine, but at the worst our accounts are 
nearly balanced. What might not have happened in 1919 if modern 
methods for postponing payment had not been applied internationally ? 
The other chief combatants are far from paying their way. Italy is 
importing abnormal quantities of food and also her necessary raw 
materials with the aid of American and English credits, while Germany, 
who can get little in the way of credit, has hardly begun even to import 
the raw materials to make the goods by the export of which she may 
eventually pay her way, not to mention her indemnities. I have in 
mind such materials as cotton, wool, rubber, copper, oil-seeds, and 
hides—all of which she imported heavily in 1913. Some materials, 
of course, she possesses in abundance, but the working up even of these 
is hampered by her coal position. I make no political pleas: I merely 
illustrate the complexity of the restarting of industry under present- 
day conditions. France has the first claim to assistance in restarting, a 
claim which we all recognise; but for the comfort and peace of the 
world a universal restart is desirable. 

The central problem is one which I can only indicate here, not 
discuss. Its discussion is for experts with full inside knowledge from 
month to month, and the answer varies for every country. It is—when 
will the inability of the war-damaged nations to pay for all that they 
want, in food and materials, in order to restart full economic activity, 
make itself felt by the nations who are supplying them, primarily, that 
is, the United States and ourselves? In 1814-16, when the problem 
was, of course, infinitely smaller because nations were so much more 
self-sufficing, the reaction came at once for lack of long organised 
eredits. Conceivably, all other combatants might do in turn what we 
seem to have done—that is, adjust their trade balance within a reason- 
able period and so avoid renewal of special credits. In that case the 
post-war trade slump would come, not as an international crisis, but as a 
gradual decline, when the first abnormal demand for goods of all kinds 
to replenish stocks is over. Already this type of demand is slackening 
‘n certain quarters. We shall do very well if we have nothing worse 
than that gradual decline, which would be eased, in our case, by our 

! ,— ECONOMICS, 123 

extensive connections with undamaged countries, and by our willingness 
to buy most things which any nation has to offer. The situation would 
be still further eased if countries such as Germany and Russia were to 
develop in turn what might. be called a reconstruction demand, to take 
the place of the satisfied reconstruction demands of our Allies. But the 
fear, as I think the quite reasonable fear, expressed in some well- 
informed quarters, is that, in view of the complicated and dangerous cur- 
rency position in many countries ; in view of the difficulty which the war- 
damaged nations have in collecting taxes enough to meet their obliga- 
tions; in view of the slowness with which some of them are raising 
production to the level of consumption ; in view of the complete uncer- 
tainty of the political and economic future in much of Central and 
Bastern Europe—that in view of these things, and quite apart from pos- 
sible political disturbances, we shall have to go through a genuine crisis, 
as distinct from a depression ; a crisis beginning in the field of finance, 
when some international obligation cannot be met or some international 
credit cannot be renewed, spreading to industry and giving us a bad spell 
ef unemployment, comparable with the unemployment of the post-war 
period a century ago, and more dangerous because of the high standard 
of living to which the people in this and some other countries is becom- 
ing accustomed. 

Personally, I am less apprehensive for the industries of this country 
than are many whose opinions I should ordinarily be disposed to prefer 
to my own. A demand, an effective demand, exists for many things 
that we can supply in great regions outside the war area—in China, 
for instance, where there is said to be at this moment a keen demand 
for machinery which the United Kingdom is too much preoccupied with 
other work to supply. Nor do I fear that a crisis will originate here, 
as I am disposed to think that our currency and taxation position is 
already relatively sound. But we should be bound to feel the reactions 
of acrisis which might occur elsewhere ; to what extent is, however, quite 
impossible to foresee. 

One final comparison. An extraordinary feature of the great wars 
of a century ago was that they coincided with a steady growth of popu- 
lation, and were followed by a period of rapid growth. For the 
United Kingdom that fact is well known and not surprising. We 
lost relatively few men in war. But the official French figures, 
97,500,000 in 1801 and 29,500,000 in 1816, are so remarkable that 
one is tempted to doubt the first enumeration. Though remarkable, 
the figures are, however, not impossible; and it must be recalled that 
the losses were spread over many years. British population has grown 
a little since 1914 ; in spite of separations of man and wife and our three- 
quarters of a million dead. A main reason has, however, been the 
suspension of emigration, which was proceeding at a rate of over 200,000 
a year just before the war. France estimates a dead loss of over 
3,000,000 (on 39,700,000) between 1913 and 1918 on her old territory. 
Her census is due next year. Comparatively early in the war the 
German civilian death rate was above the birth rate; so presumably she 
is in much the same position as France. But, owing to changes of 
frontier and continued unrest, it is as yet too early to estimate the total 


effect of the Great War on population. For Western and Central Europe 
it must, I think, have produced a considerable net loss. For Russia 
one can hardly guess ; but her population is so largely rural and grew so 
amazingly fast before 1914, that it would not surprise me very much to 
learn that, with all her miseries, it had been maintained. 

The growth of population in Europe after 1815 coincided with the 
spread of the first industrial and agricultural revolution outwards from 
the United Kingdom. The world was learning new ways to feed and 
clothe itself; and it continued to learn all through the century. I 
myself do not suppose that the age of discovery is at an end, so our 
troubles may be eased as time goes on; and although I have not the 
slightest wish that population should ever again grow so fast as it grew 
in Europe during the nineteenth century, I see no reason why a moderate 
rate of growth should not be resumed, in a few years at latest. But 
perhaps I have already committed prophecy, or half prophecy, more 
than is altogether wise for one in my position. 






Proressor C. F. JENKIN, C.B.E., M.A., 

Tue importance of research in all branches of industry is now becoming 
fully recognised. It is hardly necessary to point out the great possi- 
bilities of the Board of Scientific and Industrial Research, formed 
just before the war, or to lay stress on the attention which has been 
called to the need for research by events during the war. Probably 
in no branch of the Services was more research work done than in 
the Air Service, and the advances made in all directions in connection 
with flying were astonishing. My own work was confined to problems 
connected with materials of construction, and as a result of that work 
I have come to the conclusion that the time has come when the funda- 
mental data on which the engineering theories of the strength and 
suitability of materials are based require thorough overhauling and 
revision. I believe that the present is a favourable time for this work, 
but I think that attention needs to be drawn to it, lest research work 
is all diverted to the problems which attract more attention, owing 
to their being in the forefront of the advancing engineering knowledge, 
and lest the necessary drudgery is shirked in favour of the more 
exciting new discoveries. 

Tt has been very remarkable how again and again in aeroplane 
engineering the problems to be solved have raised fundamental ques- 
tions in the strength and properties of materials which had never been 
adequately solved. Some of these questions related to what may be 
termed theory, and some related to the physical properties of materials. 

I propose to-day to describe some of these problems, and to suggest 
the direction in which revision and extension of our fundamental 
theories and data are required and the lines on which research should 
be undertaken. Let us consider first one of the oldest materials of 
construction—timber. Timber was of prime importance in aircraft 
construction. The first peculiarity of this material which strikes us 
is that it is anisotropic. Its grain may be used to locate three principal 
axes—along the grain, radially across the grain, and tangentially across 
the grain. It is curious that there do not appear to be generally 
recognised terms for these three fundamental directions. A very few 


tests are sufficient to show that its strength is enormously greater 
along the grain than across it. How, then, is an engineer to calculate 
the strength of a wooden member? There is no theory, in a form 
available for the engineer, by which the strength of members made 
of an anisotropic material can be calculated. 

I fancy I may be told that such a theory is not required—that 
experience shows that the ordinary theory is quite near enough. How 
utterly misleading such a statement is I will try to show by a few 
examples. Suppose a wooden tie or strut is cut from the tree obliquely 
so that the grain does not lie parallel to its length. In practice it 
is never possible to ensure that the grain is accurately parallel to the 
length of the member, and often the deviation is considerable. How 
much is the member weakened? This comparatively simple problem 
has been of immense importance in aeroplane construction, and, thanks 
to the researches made during the war, can be answered. The solution 
has thrown a flood of light on many failures which before were obscure. 
If the tensile strengths of a piece of timber are, say, 18,000 lb./sq. in. 
along the grain and 800 lb./sq. in. across it (radially or tangentially) 
and the shear strength is 900 lb./sq. in. along the grain—these figures 
correspond roughly with the strengths of silver spruce—then if a 
tensile stress be applied at any angle to the grain the components 
of that stress in the principal directions must not exceed the above 
strengths, or failure will occur. Thus we can draw curves limiting 
the stress at any angle to the grain, and similar curves may be drawn 
for compression stresses. These theoretical curves have been checked 
experimentally, and the results of the tests confirm them closely, except 
in one particular. The strengths at small inclination to the grain fall 
even faster than the theoretical curves would lead us to expect. The 
very rapid drop in strength for quite small deviations is most striking. 

Similar curves have been prepared for tensile and compressive 
stresses inclined in each of the three principal planes for spruce, ash, 
walnut, and mahogany, so that the strengths of these timbers to resist 
forces in any direction can now be estimated reasonably accurately. 

As a second example consider the strength of plywood. Plywood 
is the name given to wood built up of several thicknesses glued 
together with the grain in alternate thicknesses running along and 
across the plank. he result of this crossing of the grain is that the 
plywood has roughly equal strength along and across the plank. Ply- 
wood is generally built up of thin veneers, which are cut from the 
log by slicing them off as the log revolves in a lathe. 

Owing to the taper in the trunk of the tree and to other irregularities 
in form, the grain in the veneer rarely runs parallel to the surface, 
but generally runs through the sheet at a more or less oblique angle. 
As a consequence the strength of plywood is very variable, and tests 
show that it is not possible to rely on its having more than half the 
strength it would have if the grain in the veneers were not oblique. 
It is therefore obviously possible to improve the manufacture enor- 
mously by using veneers split off, following the grain, in place of the 
present sliced veneers. The superiority of split or riven wood over 
cut wood has been recognised for ages. I believe all ladders and ladder 


rungs are riven. Hurdles, hoops, and laths are other examples. Knees 
in ships are chosen so that the grain follows the required outline. 

Owing to the enormous difference in strength in timber along and 
across the grain, it is obviously important to get the grain in exactly 
the right direction to bear the loads it has to carry. The most perfect 
example I ever saw of building up a plywood structure to support all 
the loads on it was the frame of the German Schutte-Lanz airship, 
which was made entirely of wood. At the complex junctions of the 
various girders and ties the wood, which was built up of very thin 
yeneers—hardly thicker than plane shavings—layers were put on most 
ingeniously in the direction of every stress. 

During the war I have had to reject numerous types of built-up 
struts intended for aeroplanes, because the grain of the wood was in 
the wrong direction to bear the load. The example shown—a McGruer 
strut—is one of the most elegant designs, using the grain correctly. 

Many of the tests applied to timber are wrong in theory and conse- 
quently misleading. For example, the common method of determining 
Young’s modulus for timber is to measure the elastic deflection of a 
beam loaded in the middle and to calculate the modulus by the ordinary 
theory, neglecting the deflection due to shear, which is legitimate in 
isotropic materials ; but in timber the shear modulus is very small—for 
example, in spruce it is only about one-sixtieth of Young’s modulus— 
and consequently the shear deflection becomes quite appreciable, and 
the results obtained on test pieces of the common proportions lead to 
errors in the calculated Young’s modulus of about 10 per cent. 

The lantern plates show three standard tests; the first is supposed 
to give the shearing strength of the timber, but these test pieces fail 
by tension across the grain—not by shearing. Professor Robertson 
has shown that the true shear strength of spruce is about three times 
as great as the text-book figures, and has designed a test which gives 
fairly reliable results. The second figure represents a test intended to 
give the mean strength across the grain, but the concentration of stress 
at the grooves is so great that such test pieces fail under less than half 
the proper load. This fact was shown in a striking manner by narrow- 
ing a sample of this shape to half its width, when it actually bore a 
greater total load—i.e., more than double the stress borne by the 
original sample. The third figure represents a test piece intended to 
measure the rather vague quality, ‘strength to resist splitting.’ The 
results actually depend on the tensile strength across the grain, on the 
elastic constants, and on the accidental position of the bottom of the 
groove relatively to the spring or autumn wood in the annular rings. 
Unless the theory is understood, rational tests cannot be devised. 

There are some valuable tropical timbers whose structure is far 
more complex than that of our ordinary northern woods. The grain in 
these timbers grows in alternating spirals—an arrangement which at 
_ first sight is almost incredible. The most striking example of this type 
of wood I have seen is the Indian ‘ Poon.’ The sample on the table 
has been split in a series of tangential planes at varying distances from 
the centre of the tree, and it will be seen that the grain at one depth 
is growing in a right-hand spiral round the trunk; a little farther out 


it grows straight up the trunk; further out again it grows in a left- 
hand spiral, and this is repeated again and again, with a pitch of about 
two inches. The timber is strong and probably well adapted for use 
in large pieces—it somewhat resembles plywood—but it is doubtful 
whether it is safe in small pieces. No theory is yet available for esti- 
mating its strength, and very elaborate tests would be needed to 
determine its reliability in all positions. I had to reject it for aero- 
planes during the war for want of accurate knowledge of its 

These examples show how necessary it is to have a theory for the 
strength of anisotropic materials before we can either understand the 
causes of their failure or make full use of their properties or even test 
them rationally. 

The second material we shall consider is steel, and in dealing with 
it I do not wish to enter into any of the dozen or so burning questions 
which are so familiar to all metallurgists and engineers, but to call 
your attention to a few more fundamental questions. Steel is not 
strictly isotropic—but we may consider it to be so to-day. The first 
obvious question the engineer has to answer is, ‘ What is its strength? ’ 
The usual tests give the Ultimate Strength, Yield Point, Elastic Limit, 
the Elongation, the Reduction of Area, and perhaps the Brinell and 
Izod figures. On which of these figures is the dimension of an engine 
part, which is being designed, to be based? If we choose the Ultimate 
Strength we must divide it by a large factor of safety—a factor of 
ignorance. If we choose the Yield Point we must remember that none 
of the higher-grade steels have any Yield Point, and the nominal Yield 
Point depends on the fancy of the tester. This entirely imaginary 
point cannot be used for accurate calculation except in a very few 
special cases. Can we base our calculation on the Elongation—the 
Reduction of Area—the Izod test? If we face the question honestly we 
realise that there is no known connection between the test results and 
the stress we can safely call on the steel to bear. The only connecting 
link is that cloak for our ignorance—the factor of safety. 

I feel confident that the only reliable property on which to base 
the strength of any engine part is the suitable Fatigue Limit. We 
have not yet reached the position of being able to specify this figure, 
but a considerable number of tests show that in a wide range of steels 
(though there are some unexplained exceptions) the Fatigue Limit for 
equal + stresses is a little under half the Ultimate Strength, and is 
independent of the Elastic Limit and nominal Yield Point, so that the 
Ultimate Strength may be replaced as the most reliable guide to true 
strength, with a factor—no longer of ignorance, but to give the fatigue 
limit—of a little over 2. 

If the Fatigue Limit is accepted as the only sound basis for strength 
calculation for engine parts, and it is difficult to find any valid objection 
to it, then it is obvious that there is urgent need for extensive researches 
in fatigue, for the available data are most meagre. The work is 
laborious, for there is not one Fatigue Limit, but a continuous series, 
as the signs and magnitudes of the stresses change. Many problems in 
connection with fatigue are of great importance and need much fuller 


investigation than they have jso far received—e.g., the effect of speed 
of testing; the effect of rest and heat treatment in restoring fatigued 
material; the effect of previous testing at higher or lower stresses on 
the apparent fatigue limit of a test piece. Some observers have found 
indications that the material may possibly be strengthened by subject- 
ing it to an alternating stress below its fatigue limit, so that the results 
of fatigue tests may depend on whether the limit is approached by 
increasing the stress or by decreasing it. 

Improved methods of testing are also needed—particularly methods 
which will give the results quickly. Stromeyer’s method of measur- 
ing the first rise of temperature, which indicates that the fatigue limit 
is passed, as the alternating load is gradually increased, is most promis- 
ing; it certainly will not give the true fatigue limit in all cases, for it 
has been shown by Bairstow that with some ranges of stress a finite 
extension occurs at the beginning of a test and then ceases, under 
stresses lower than the fatigue limit. But the fatigue limit in that 
case would not be a safe guide, for finite changes of shape. are not 
permissible in most machines, so that in that case also Stromeyer’s 
test may be exactly what is wanted. It can probably be simplified in 
‘detail and made practicable for commercial use. Better methods of 
testing in torsion are also urgently needed, none of those at present 
used being free from serious defects. Finally, there is a fascinating 
field for physical research in investigating the internal mechanism of 
fatigue failure. Some most suggestive results have already been 
obtained, which extend the results obtained by Ewing. 

For members of structures which are only subjected to ‘steady loads 
I suggest ‘that the safe stress might be defined by limiting the corre- 
‘sponding permanent set to a small amount—perhaps 4 per cent. or 
per cent. This principle has been tentatively adopted in some.of \the 
aircraft material specifications by specifying a Proof Load which must 
be sustained without a permanent extension of more than 4 per cent. 
Whether this principle is suitable for all materials and how it will 
answer in practice remains to be proved by experience. It is at any 
rate a possible rational ‘basis for determining the useful strength of a 
material under steady loads. 

The relation between the proof stress and ‘the shape of the stress- 
‘strain diagram is shown in the lantern slide. The curve is the record 
of an actual test on a certain copper alloy. Ifa length A B correspond- 
ing'to 4 per cent. elongation be set off along the base line and a line BP 
be drawn through the point B parallel to the elastic line, to cut the curve 
in P, then the stress at P is the stress which will give 4 per cent. 
permanent set. Though 4 per cent. may appear rather a large 
permanent set to allow it will be seen from the figure that it is less 
than the elastic elongation would have been at the same stress, and we 
do not usually find elastic elongations serious. 

As a commercial test the proof load is very easily applied. For this 
alloy the ‘specified proof load is shown by the horizontal line so labelled. 
This load is to (be applied and released, and the permanent extensicn is 
required by the specification to be less than 4 per-cent. This sample 
passes the test easily. On the figure the condition for complying with 

1920 K 


the specification is that the curve shall fall above Q. But the test does 
not require the curve to be determined. 

If we admit that the fatigue limit is the proper basis for engine- 
strength calculations, there are a number of interesting modifications 
required in the common theory of the strength of materials. It will 
no longer be possible to neglect, as has been so general in the past, the 
uneven distribution of stress in irregularly shaped parts of machines. 
It has been generally recognised that sharp corners should be avoided 
when possible, but no theory is available to enable the stresses at corners 
to be calculated or to enable their effect on the strength of the member 
to be estimated. If fatigue is the critical factor in failure under fluc- 
tuating stresses such theory is most necessary. Hven the roughest 
guide would be of great value. The nature and magnitude of the con- 
centrations of stress which occur in practice have been investigated 
experimentally by Professor Coker by his elegant optical method which 
has given most valuable results, some of which are already being used 
in designing offices. If the mathematical theory is too difficult, it may 
be possible to lay down practical rules deduced from such experimental 
results—but the method still has many limitations, perhaps the most 
serious being that it can only be used on flat models. I believe Professor 
Coker expects to be able to extend the method to round models. 

As a simple example to show the importance of the subject let us 
consider the effect of a groove round a straight round bar subject to 
alternating tension and compression—such a groove as a screw thread. 
There will be a concentration of stress at the bottom of the groove. 
The ratio of the stress at the bottom of a groove to the mean stress in 
the bar has been worked out mathematically by Mr. A. A. Griffith, and 
his calculations have been confirmed experimentally by his elegant soap- 
bubble method. The ratio depends on the relation between the depth 
of the groove, the radius at the bottom, and slightly on the 
angle between the sides. For a Whitworth form of thread the ratio 
will be about 3. If the Fatigue Limit is exceeded at the bottom of the 
groove the metal will fail and a minute crack will form there; this crack 
will soon spread right across the bar and total failure will result. Thus 
we see that the safe mean stress in the bar will be reduced to one-third 
what a plain bar will bear. The truth of this theory regarding the 
importance of concentrations of stress has still to be proved experi- 
mentally ; if true, it is of far-reaching importance, since it applies to all 
concentrations of stress in machine parts subject to fluctuating loads. 

The theory does not apply to steadily loaded members; in these the 
local excess of stress is relieved by the stretching of the minute portion 
which is overloaded, and no further consequences follow. 

The theory appears to apply to grooves however small, and has an 
important bearing on the smoothness of the finish of machine parts. 
The surface of any engine part finished by filing is certainly entirely 
covered with scratches. Emery likewise leaves the surface scratched— 
though the scratches are smaller. If, however, polishing be carried 
further the surface may ultimately be freed from scratches and left in a 
burnished condition. In this condition amorphous metal has been 
smeared over the surface—the smooth appearance is not simply due 


to the scratches being too small to see. The strength—under alternat- 
ing stresses—appears to depend on the form of the scratches, and if the 
ratio of radius at the bottom of the scratch to its depth is fairly large, 
very little weakening occurs. It seems probable in the ordinary engineer- 
ing finish produced by emery and oil that the scratches are broad and 
shallow. This subject is being investigated. A considerable amount of 
evidence has been collected from practical experience pointing to the 
important effect which a smooth finish has on the strength of heavily 
stressed engine parts. 

Fatigue is probably the cause of failure of wires in wire ropes. A 
good deal of valuable experimental work has been done on the life of 
ropes, but so far as I am aware there is no satisfactory theory of their 
strength. This subject also requires research, and it seems probable 
that valuable practical results might follow if the true explanation of 
the cause of the breakages of the wires was determined. 

These are only examples, but they may be sufficient to show how 
much work both experimental and theoretical requires to be done to 
give the engineer a really sound basis for the simplest strength calcula- 
tions on any moving machinery. But there are more fundamental 
questions still which must be tackled before the simplest questions of 
all which meet the engineer can be answered scientifically. The two 
most urgent and most important questions which I met with during the 
war in connection with aircraft were always the same—Why did some 
part break? and, What is the best material to use for that part? It was 
most disconcerting to find how inadequate one’s knowledge was to 
answer these two simple questions. The common answers are: To the 
first: ‘It broke because it was too weak, make it stronger,’ and to the 
second: ‘ General practice indicates such a material as the best—better 
not try any other or you may have trouble.’ In aircraft weight is 
paramount, and to make a part stronger—t.e., heavier—had to be the 
last resort, and when used was almost a confession of failure. ‘ General 
practice’ was no guide in aeroplane engines, which are built of the 
strangest materials. The origins of fractures were traced to many 
causes, often lying far away from the site of the breakage; but with 
these I am not concerned to-day. I wish to confine our consideration to 
the actual fracture and to ask, ‘ What stress caused the fracture?’ and 
“What property of the metal was absent which would have enabled 
it to withstand that stress?’ And again, ‘ What other material pos- 
sesses suitable properties to withstand the stresses better?’ These are 
the fundamental questions which I have referred to—and which urgently 
need answers. 

As an example I will take a broken propeller shaft. It has broken 
in a beautiful spiral fracture. What stress causes that? T have failed 
to explain it by any of the facts I know about the steel it is made of. 
It is, of course, a fatigue fracture—i.e., it spread gradually. The 
questions to be answered are, Did it fail under tension, bending or 

torsion? and, Why was a spiral direction followed by the failure as it 
spread ? riety 
_ It may be objected that the question is unimportant. TI think not. 
For example, till we can determine the nature of the stress we cannot 

Kk 2 


indicate the nature of the load—thus I cannot say if it broke under 
a torsional load (possibly torsional vibration) or under a bending load 
(possibly due to some periodic variation of thrust on one of the pro- 
peller blades as it passed an obstruction). Until the nature of the load 
which caused the failure is known, it is very difficult to take steps to 
guard against similar accidents. For the most urgent reasons, there- 
fore, we require to be able to understand the fracture, as in nearly all 
aircraft problems men’s lives hang on the answer. 

Turning now to the question of the most suitable material, I will 
take as an example the material for the crankshaft of an aeroplane 
engine. A few months before the Armistice there were difficulties in 
gefting sufficient supplies of the high-grade nickel-chrome steel forgings 
then in general use for shafts, and proposals were made to use a plain 
carbon steel. Such a steel would be about 30 per cent. weaker, accord- 
ing to the ordinary tests. A conference of leading metallurgists and 
engineers was held to discuss the suggestion. No one present ventured 
to predict whether the weaker steel would answer or not, or whether 
the dimensions would have to be increased or not. It was pointed out 
that a French engine was now using 50-ton steel with better results 
than when using the 100-ton steel for which it was designed, no 
changes in dimensions having been made. Such a reduction of strength 
might be understood in ordinary engineering where there are large 
margins of safety, but in an aeroplane engine, in which every ounce 
of metal is cut off which can be spared, they show how completely 
ignorant engineers are of what the suitability of material depends on. 

As another example, Why are oxygen cylinders annealed—repeat- 
edly? Annealing reduces the steel to its weakest condition. I believe 
the fondness for annealing is due to our ignorance of the properties 
we require. Perhaps the quality of steel which an engineer fears most 
is brittleness. He believes that annealing will soften it and reduce the 
brittleness; so he anneals, blindly. The fact is that we do not know 
what brittleness is—we cannot define it—we cannot measure it— 
though there are endless empirical tests to detect it. Till we know 
what it means and can measure it we are in a miserable position. 
During the war I was consulted on what could be done to reduce the 
enormous weight of oxygen cylinders, and I advised that experiments 
should be made on the high-quality alloyed steel tubes we were using 
in aircraft construction. The department dealing with these tubes 
took the matter up, and alloyed steel cylinders, properly heat-treated, 
were made. These were, I believe, a success, and only weighed a 
small fraction of the old-fashioned cylinders. But my suggestion was 
little more than a guess, and no means was known of accurately testing 
the suitability of the material, so they were only accepted after passing 
any number of empirical tests, consisting of various kinds of rough 
usage, to see if they would crack or burst. Surely an engineer should 
be able to sav whether a cylinder. is safe without dropping it from 
the roof or rolling it down the front-door steps to see if it breaks. 

These examples refer only to different grades of the same material— 
steel—but how far worse off we are when the problem is whether some 
other alloy would be suitable to replace steel. Proposals have been — 

_@,=-ENGINEERING. 133. 

made, for example, to, replace the very hard steel used at present 
for connecting-rods by duralumin or some other forged aluminium 
alloy. It seems worth trying; but who, in our present state of ignorance 
of the real properties of metals, will say if the experiment will be a 
success ? 

How difficult it is to prophesy may be illustrated by the results of 
two empirical tests on duralumin and steel sheets of the same thick- 
nesses. ‘he ultimate strengths and elongations of the steel and the 
duralumin were roughly equal. ‘Ihe lantern slides show that under 
reverse-bend tests they both follow the same law, the steel being the 
better. But under the cupping test they follow opposite laws. 

The suitability of different materials presumably depends on their 
fundamental physical properties. These may be many, but some 
physicists think that they are probably really very few, and that, 
knowing these few, it may be possible to deduce all the complex 
properties required by the engineer and to state with certainty how 
materials will behave under any conditions of service. This is the most 
fundamental problem which needs solution to enable the knowledge 
of the strength of materials to be put on a sound foundation. It will 
need the co-operation of able physicists, metallurgists, and engineers 
to solve it. 

While urging the importance of research in the fundamental theories 
of stress and fundamental properties of materials, I wish to lay special 
stress on the nature of the researches required. Engineers are intensely 
practical men, and their practice has generally been ahead of their 
theory. The difficulties they have met have been dealt with, often with 
the greatest ingenuity and skill, as special problems. They have seldom 
had time or opportunity to solve the general problems, and as a result 
they are used to making their experiments and trials as close a copy— 
usually on a smaller scale—of the real thing as possible. The results 
obtained in this way, while they are applicable to the particular 
problem, are of little general use. They depend on many factors. The 
researches I am now advocating must be of a diametrically opposite 
description. They must be absolutely general, and the results must 
depend on one factor only at a time, so that general laws may be 
established which will be applicable to all special problems. 

There are many other similar gaps in our knowledge to which I 
have not time to refer to to-day. I have tried to show that we need 
most of all a real knowledge of the fundamental properties of materials, 
from which we shall be able to deduce their behaviour in any condition 
of service, so that we may be able to compare the relative merits of 
diverse materials for any particular purpose. 

_ Secondly, that we need a practical method of calculating the stresses 
in parts of any form, so that concentrations of stress may be avoided 
or that their magnitudes may be known and allowed for. 

Thirdly, that we need a rational connecting link between the tests 
made on materials and the stresses they will bear in service, to replace 
the factor of safety. I have suggested two tests, the Proof Load and 
the Fatigue Limit, which might be used directly in estimating the allow- 
able working stress. 


Fourthly, that we need a mathematical theory for the strength of 
anisotropic materials, of which timber is an extreme and important 

When the notes for this address were first drafted I ended by an 
appeal to the Board of Scientific and Industrial Research to undertake 
the necessary research work. Since then the Aeronautical Research 
Committee has been constituted, and a sub-committee has been 
appointed to deal with ‘ Materials.’ I have great hopes that the 
committee will tackle many of these problems. I will therefore conclude 
by appealing to all who can help to assist that committee in their 
endeavour to solve these most important and fascinating, but most 
difficult, problems. 






Pror. KARL PEARSON, M.A., LL.D., F.RB.S., 

Anthropology—the Understanding of Man—should be, if Pierre 
Charron were correct, the true science and the true study of mankind.* 
We might anticipate that in our days—in this era of science—anthro- 
pology in its broadest sense would occupy the same exalted position 
that theology occupied in the Middle Ages. We should hail it ‘ Queen 
of the Sciences,’ the crowning study of the academic curriculum. 
Why is it that we are Section H and not Section A? If the answer 
be given that such is the result of historic evolution, can we still be 
satisfied with the position that anthropology at present takes up in our 
British Universities and in our learned societies? Have our univer- 
sities, one and all, anthropological institutes well filled with enthusi- 
astic students, and are there brilliant professors and lecturers teaching 
them not only to understand man’s past, but to use that knowledge to 
forward his future? Have we men trained during a long life of study 
and research to represent our science in the arena, or do we largely 
trust to dilettanti—to retired civil servants, to untrained travellers or 
colonial medical men for our knowledge, and to the anatomist, the sur- 
geon, or the archeologist for our teaching? Needless to say, that for the 
study of man we require the better part of many sciences, we must 
draw for contributions on medicine, on zoology, on anatomy, on 
archeology, on folk-lore and travel-lore, nay, on history, psychology, 
geology, and many other branches of knowledge. But a hotch- 
potch of the facts of these sciences does not create anthropology. The 
true anthropologist is not the man who has merely a wide knowledge 
of the conclusions of other sciences, he is the man who grasps their 
bearing on mankind and throws light on the past and present factors 
of human evolution from that knowledge. 

1 “‘Ta vraye science et le vray estude de l’homme c’est l’Homme.’’ Pierre 
Charron, De la Sagesse, Préface du Premier Livre, 1601.. Pope, with his ‘‘ The 
proper study of mankind is Man,” 1733, was, as we might anticipate, only a 

I am afraid I am a scientific heretic—an outcast from the true ortho- 
dox faith—I do not believe in science for its own sake. I believe only in 
science for man’s sake. You will hear on every side the argument that 
it is not the aim of science to be utile, that you must pursue scientific 
studies for their own sake and not for the utility of the resulting dis- 
coveries. I think that there is a great deal of obscurity about this 
attitude, I will not say nonsense. [I find the strongest supporters of 
‘science for its own sake ’ use as the main argument for the pursuit 
of not immediately utile researches that these researches will be useful 
some day, that we can never be certain when they will turn out to be 
of advantage to mankind. Or, again, they will appeal to non-utile 
branches of science as providing a splendid intellectual training—as if 
the provision of highly trained minds was not itself a social function 
of the greatest utility! In other words, the argument from utility is 
in both cases indirectly applied to justify the study of science for its 
own sake. In the old days: the study of hyperspace—space of higher 
dimensions than that of which we have physical cognisance—used to 
be cited as an example of! a non-utile scientific research. In view of 
the facts: (i.) that our whole physical outlook on the universe—and 
with it I will add our whole philosophical and theological outlooks—are 
taking new aspects under the theory of Einstein; and (ii.) that study 
of the relative influences of Nature and Nurture in Man can be 
reduced to the trigonometry of polyhedra in hyperspace—we see how 
idle it is to fence off any field of scientific investigation as non-utile. 
Yet are we to defend the past of anthropology—and, in particular, 
of anthropometry—as the devotion of our science to an immediate non- 
utile which one day is going to be utile in a glorious and epoch-making 
manner, like the Clifford-Hinstein suggestion of the curvature of our 
space? I fear we can take no such flattering unction to our souls. 
I fear that ‘the best is yet to be’ cannot be said of our multitudinous 
observations on ‘ height-sitting’ or on the censuses of eye or hair 
colours of our population. These things are dead almost from the day 
of their record. It is not only because the bulk of their recorders were 
untrained to observe and measure with scientific accuracy, it is not only 
because the records in nine out of ten cases omit the associated factors 
without which the record is valueless. It is because the progress of 
mankind in its present stage depends on characters wholly different 
from those which have so largely occupied the anthropologist’s atten- 
tion, Seizing the superficial and easy to observe, he has let slip the 
more subtle and elusive qualities on which progress, on which national 
fitness for this or that task essentially depends. The pulse-tracing, 
the reaction-time, the mental age of the men under his control are far 
more important to the commanding officer—nay, I will add, to the 
employer of labour—than any record of span, of head-measurement, 
or pigmentation categories. The psycho-physical and psycho-physio- 
logical characters are of far greater weight in the struggle of nations 
to-day than the, superficial measurements of man’s body. Physique, 
im the: fullest. sense, counts; something still, but. it is. physique as 
méasured by health, not by stature or eye-colour. But character, 
strength of will, mental quickness count more, and if anthropometry 

7. . H.—ANTHROPOLOGY. Brie 137 
is to be useful to the State it must turn from these rusty old weapons, 
these measurements of stature and records of eye-colour to more 
certain appreciations of bodily health and mental apfitude—to what we 
may term ‘ vigorimetry ’ and to psychometry. 

Some of you may be inclined to ask: And how do you know that 
these superficial size-, shape-, and pigment-characters are not closely 
associated with measurements of soundness of body and soundness of 
mind? The answer to this question is twofold, and I must ask you 
to follow me for a moment into what appears a totally different sub- 
ject. I refer to a‘ pure race.’ Some biologists apparently believe 
they can isolate a pure race, but in the case of man, I feel sure that 
purity of race is a merely relative term. For a given character one 
race is purer than a second, if the scientific measure of variation of 
that character is less than it is in the second. In loose wording, for 
we cannot express ourselves accurately without mathematical symbols, 
that race is purer for which on the average the individuals are: closer to 
type for the bulk of ascertainable characters than are the characters 
in a second race. But an absolutely pure race in man defies definition. 
The more isolated a group of men has remained, the longer it has 
lived under the same environment, and the more limited its habitat, 
the less variation from type it will exhibit, and we can legitimately 
speak of it as possessing greater purity. We, most of us, probably 
believe in a single origin of man. But as anthropologists we are 
inclined to speak as if at the dawn of history there were a number of 
pure races, each with definite physical and mental characteristics; if 
this were true, which I do not believe, it could only mean that up: to 
that period there had been extreme isolation, extremely differentiated 
environments, and so marked differences in the direction and rate of 
mental and physical evolution. But what we know historically of 
folk-wanderings, folk-mixings, and folk-absorptions have undoubtedly 
been going on for hundreds of thousands of years, of which we know 
only a small historic fragment. Have we any real reason for suppos- 
ing that ‘ purity of race’ existed up to the beginning of history, and 
that we have all got badly mixed up since? 

Let us, however, grant that there were purer races at the beginning 
of history than we find to-day. Let us suppose a Nordic race with 
a certain stature, a given pigmentation, a given shape of head, and a 
given mentality. And, again, we will suppose an Alpine race, differ- 
ing markedly in type from the Nordic race. What happens if we cross 
members of the two races and proceed to a race of hybrids? <A 
_ Mendelian would tell us that these characters are sorted out like: cards 
from a pack in all sorts of novel combinations. A Nordic mentality 
will be found with short stature and dark eyes. A tall but brachy- 
cephalic individual will combine Alpine mentality with blue eyes. 
Without accepting fully the Mendelian theory we can at least accept 
the result of mass observations, which show that the association 
between superficial physical measurements and mentality is of the 
slenderest kind. If you keep within one class, my own measurements 
show me that there is only the slightest relation between intelligence 
and the size and shape of the head. Pigmentation in this country seems 


to have little relation to the incidence of disease. Size and shape of 
head in man have been taken as a rough measure of size and shape of 
brain. They cannot tell you more—perhaps not as much as brain- 
weight—and if brain-weight were closely associated with intelligence, 
then man should be at his intellectual prime in his teens. 

Again, too often is this idea of close association of mentality and 
physique carried into the analysis of individuals within a human group, 
i.e. of men belonging to one or another of the many races which have 
gone to build up our population. We talk as if it was our population 
which was mixed, and not our germplasm. We are accustomed to speak 
of a typical Englishman. For example, Charles Darwin; we think of 
his mind as a typical English mind, working in a typical English 
manner, yet when we come to study his pedigree we seek in vain 
for ‘ purity of race.’ He is descended in four different lines from 
Irish kinglets; he is descended in as many lines from Scottish and 
Pictish kings. He had Manx blood. He claims descent in at least 
three lines from Alfred the Great, and so links up with Anglo-Saxon 
blood, but he links up also in several lines with Charlemagne and the 
Carlovingians. He sprang also from the Saxon Emperors of Germany, 
as well as from Barbarossa and the Hohenstaufens. He had Nor- 
wegian blood and much Norman blood. He had descent from the 
Dukes of Bavaria, of Saxony, of Flanders, the Princes of Savoy, and 
the Kings of Italy. He had the blood in his veins of Franks, Alamans, 
Merovingians, Burgundians, and Longobards. He sprang in direct 
descent from the Hun rulers of Hungary and the Greek Emperors of 
Constantinople. If I recollect rightly, Ivan the Terrible provides a 
Russian link. There is probably not one of the races of Europe con- 
cerned in the folk-wanderings which has not a share in the ancestry 
of Charles Darwin. If it has been possible in the case of one English- 
man of this kind to show in a considerable number of lines how impure 
is his race, can we venture to assert that if the like knowledge were 
possible of attainment, we could expect greater purity of blood in any 
of his countrymen? What we are able to show may occur by tracing 
an individual in historic times, have we any valid reason for supposing 
did not occur in prehistoric times, wherever physical barriers did not 
isolate a limited section of mankind? If there ever was an association 
of definite mentality with physical characters, it would break down 
as soon as race mingled freely with race, as it has done in historic 
Europe. Isolation or a strong feeling against free inter-breeding—as 
in a colour differentiation—could alone maintain a close association 
between physical and mental characters. Europe has never recovered 
from the general hybridisation of the folk-wanderings, and it is only 
the cessation of wars of conquest and occupation, the spread of the 
conception of nationality and the reviving consciousness of race, which 
is providing the barriers which may eventually lead through isolation 
to a new linking-up of physical and mental characters. 

In a population which consists of non-intermarrying castes, as in 
India, physique and external appearance may be a measure of the type 
of mentality. In the highly and recently hybridised nations of Europe 
there are really but few fragments of ‘ pure races’ left, and it is 


hopeless to believe that anthropometric measurements of the body or 
records of pigmentation are going to help us to a science of the psycho- 
physical characters of man which will be useful to the State. The 
modern State needs in its citizens vigour of mind and vigour of body, 
but these are not characters with which the anthropometry of the past 
has largely busied itself. In a certain sense the school medical officer 
and the medical officer of health are doing more State service of an 
anthropological character than the anthropologists themselves. 

These doubts have come very forcibly to my notice during the last 
few years. What were the anthropologists as anthropologists doing 
during the war? Many of them were busy enough and doing valuable 
work because they were anatomists, or because they were surgeons, 
or perhaps even because they were mathematicians. But as anthropo- 
logists, what was their position? The whole period of the war pro- 
duced the most difficult problems in folk-psychology. There were 
occasions innumerable when thousands of lives and most heavy expen- 
diture of money might have been saved by a greater knowledge of 
what creates and what damps folk-movements in the various races 
of the world. India, Egypt, Ireland, even our present relations with 
Italy and America, show only too painfully how difficult we find it to 
appreciate the psychology of other nations. We shall not surmount 
these difficulties until anthropologists take a wider view of the material 
they have to record, and of the task they have before them if they 
wish to be utile to the State. It is not the physical measurement of 
native races which is a fundamental feature of anthropometry to-day ; 
it is the psychometry and what I have termed the vigorimetry of white- 
as well as of dark-skinned men that must become the main subjects 
of our study. 

Some of you may consider that I am overlooking what has been 
contributed both in this country and elsewhere to the science-offolk- 
psychology. I know at least that Wilhelm Wundt’s ? great work runs 
to ten volumes. But I also know that in its 5452 pages there is 
not a single table of numerical measurements, not a single state- 
ment of the quantitative association between mental racial characters, 
nor, indeed, any attempt to show numerically the intensity of 
association between folk-mentality and folk customs and institutions. 
It is folk-psychology in the same stage of evolution as present-day 
sociology is in, or as individual psychology was in before the advent 
of experimental psychology and the correlational calculus. It is 

purely descriptive and verbal. I am not denying that many sciences 
must for a long period still remain in this condition, but at the same 
time I confess myself a firm disciple of Friar Roger Bacon® and of 
Leonardo da Vinci,* and believe that we can really know very little 

2 Its last volume also bears evidence of the non-judicial mind of the writer, 
who expresses strong opinions about recent events in the language of the party 
historian rather than the man of science. 

3 He who knows not Mathematics cannot know any other science, and what 
is more cannot discover his own ignorance or find its proper remedies. 

4 Nissuna humana investigatione si po dimandare vera scientia s’essa non 
passa per le mathematiche dimostratione, 


about a phenomenon until we can actually measure. it- and express: its 
relations to other phenomena in quantitative form. Now you will 
doubtless suggest that sections of folk-psychology like Language, 
Religion, Law, Art—much that forms the substance of cultural 
anthropology—are incapable of quantitative treatment. I am not con- 
vinced that this standpoint is correct. Take only the first of these sec- 
tions—Language. I am by no means certain that there is not a mich 
harvest to:be reaped by the first man who can give unbroken time and 
study to the statistical analysis of language. Whether he start with 
roots or with words to investigate the degree of resemblance in 
languages of the same family, he is likely, before he has done, to 
learn a great deal about the relative closeness and order of evolution 
of cognate tongues, whether those tongues be Aryan or Sudanese. 
And the methods’ applicable in the case of language will apply in the 
same manner to cultural habits and ideas. Strange as the notion may 
seem at first, there is a wide field in cultural anthropology for the use 
of those same methods which have revolutionised psychometric tech- 
nique, to say nothing of their influence on osteometry. 

The problems of cultural anthropology are subtle, but so indeed 
are the problems of anthropometry, and no instrument can be too 
fine if our analysis is to be final. The day is past when the arithmetic 
of the kindergarten sufficed for the physical anthropologist; the day 
is. coming when mere verbal discussion will prove inadequate for the 
cultural anthropologist. 

I do not say this merely in the controversial spint. I say it because 
I want to find a remedy for the present state of affairs. I want to 
see the full recognition of anthropology as a leading science by the 
State. I want to see the recognition of anthropology by our manu- 
facturers and commercial men, for it should be at least as important 
to them as chemistry or physics—the foundations of the Anthropo- 
logical Institutes with their museums and professors in Hamburg 
and.Frankfurt have not yet found their parallels in commercial centres 
here. I want to see a fuller recognition of anthropology in our great 
scientific societies, both in their choice of members and in the memoirs 
published. If their doors are being opened to psychology under its new 
technique, may not anthropology also seek for fuller recognition ? 

It appears to me that if we are to place anthropology in its true 
position as the queen of the sciences, we must work shoulder to.shoulder 
and work without intermittence in the following directions: anthropolo- 
gists must not cease: 

(i) To insist that our recorded material shall be such that it is 
at present or likely in the near future to be utile to the State, using the 
word ‘State’ in its amplest sense. 

(ii) To insist that there shall be institutes of anthropology, each 
with a full staff of qualified professors, whose whole energy and time 
shall be devoted to the teaching of and research in anthropology, 
ethnology and prehistory. At least three of our chief universities 
should be provided with such institutes. 

(iii) To insist that our technique shall not consist in the mere state- 
ment of opinion on the facts observed, but shall follow, if possible 


“with greater insight, the methods which are coming into use in 
epidemiology and psychology. 

I should like to enlarge a little further on these three insistencies, 
the fundamental ‘ planks’ of the campaign I have in view. 

(i) Insistence on the Nature of the Material to be dealt with. 

I have already tried to indicate that the problems before us to-day, 
the grave problems that are pressing on us with regard to the future, 
cannot be solved by the old material and by the old methods. We have 
to make anthropology a wise counsellor of the State, and this means 
a counsellor in political matters, in commercial matters, and in social 

The Governments of Europe have had military advisers, financial 
advisers, transport and food experts in their service, but they have 
not had:ethnological advisers; there have been no highly trained anthro- 
pologists at their command. You have only to study the Peace of 
Versailles to see that it is ethnologically unsound and cannot be per- 
manent. It is no good asking why our well-meaning rulers did not 
consult our well-meaning anthropologists. I for one confess that 
we have not in the past dealt with actuality, or if we did deal with 
actuality, we have not treated it in a manner likely to impress either 
the executive or the public at large. There lacked far too largely 
the scientific attitude and the fundamental specialist training. 1 will 
not go so far as to say that, if the science of man had been developed 
to the extent of physical science in all HKuropean countries, and had 
then had its due authority recognised, there would have been no war, 
but I will venture to say that the war would have been of a different 
character, and we should not have felt that the fate of European society 
and of European culture hung in the balance, as at this moment they 
certainly do. 

No one can allow individual inspiration to-day, and you may justly 
cry a Daniel has no right to issue judgment from the high seat of 
the feast. Daniel’s business is that of the outsider, the stranger, the 
unwelcome person interpreting, probably his own, scrawling on the wall. 

Well, if it be hard to learn from friends, let us at least study 
impassionately from our late foes. Some of my audience may have 
read the recent manifesto of the German anthropologists, their clarion 
ery for a new and stronger position of the science of man in academic 
studies. But the manifesto may have escaped some, and so closely 
does it fit the state of affairs here that I venture to quote certain portions 
of it. After reciting the sparsity of chairs for the study of physical and 
cultural anthropology in the German universities and how little academic 
weight has been given to such studies, it continues: ‘ Where these 
sciences have otherwise found recognition in the universities, they are 
not represented by specialists, so that anthropology is provided for by 
the anatomists, ethnology by the geographers, and prehistory by 
Germanists, archeologists and geologists, and this although, in the 
present extent of these three sciences, the real command of each one of 
them demands the complete working powers of an individual. This want 



of teaching posts had made itself felt long before the war, so that the 
number of specialists and of those interested in our science has 
receded.’ * 

And again: 

‘During the war we have often experienced how in political 
pamphlets ethnology and ethnography—even as in the peace treaty of 
Brest-Litovsk—were used too often as catchwords without their users 
being clear about the ideas those words convey. The sad results of 
our foreign policy, the collapse of all our calculations as to national 
frames of mind, were based in no small degree on ethnographic ignor- 
ance ; one has only to take for example the case of the Turks. Ethnology 
should not embrace only the spears and clubs of the savages, but also 
the psychology and demography of the white races, the European 
peoples. At this very moment, when the right of self-determination 
has become a foremost question of the day, the scientific determination 
of the boundaries of a people and its lands has become a task of the first 
importance. But our Government of the past knew nothing of the 
activity of the ethnologists, and the Universities were not in the condition 
to come {o their aid, for ethnological chairs and institutes were wanting. 
The foundation of such must be the task of the immediate future.’ ® 

And once more: 

“The problems of the military fitness of our people, of the physical 
constitution of the various social classes, of the influence of the social 
and material environment upon them, the problems of the biological 
grounds for the fall in the birth-rate and its results, of the racial com- 
position of our people, of the eventual racial differences and the accom- 
panying diverse mental capacities of the individual strata, and finally 
the racial changes which may take place in a folk under the influences 
of civilisation, and the bearing of all these matters on the fate of a 
nation, these are problems which can alone be investigated and brought 
nearer to solution by anthropology. Even now after the war population- 
problems stand in the forefront of interest, the question of folk-increase 
and of the falling birth-rate is the vital question of the future.’ 7 

I must ask your pardon for quoting so much, but it seems so strongly 
to point the moral of my tale. If you will study what Germany is 
feeling and thinking to-day do not hope to find it in the newspaper 
reports, seek it elsewhere in personal communication or in German 
writings. Then, I think, you will agree with me that rightly or wrongly 
there is a conviction spreading in Germany that the war arose and that 
the war was lost because a nation of professed thinkers had studied all 
sciences, but had omitted to study aptly the science of man. And in 
a certain sense that is an absolutely correct conviction, for if the science 
of man stood where we may hope it will stand in the dim and distant 
future, man would from the past and the surrounding present have 
some grasp of future evolution, and so have a greater chance of guiding 
its controllable factors. 

5 Correspondenz Blatt, u.s.w., Jahrg. 1., S. 37. 
® Tbid. 8. 41. 
* Thid. 8, 38. 



We are far indeed from that to-day; but it befits us none the less 
to study what this new anthropological movement in Germany connotes. 
It means that the material of anthropology is going to change, or rather 
that its observations will be extended into a study of the mental as 
well as the physical characters, and these of the white races as well as of 
the dark. It means that anthropologists will not only study individual 
psychology, but folk-psychology. It means—and this is directly said— 
that Germany, having lost her colonies, will still maintain her trade by 
aid of consuls, missionaries, traders, travellers, and others trained 
academically to understand both savage and civilised peoples. This is a 
perfectly fair field, and if the game be played squarely can solely lead 
to increased human sympathy, and we shall only have ourselves to 
blame if other nations are before us in their anthropological knowledge 
and its practical applications. The first condition for State support 
is that we show our science to be utile by turning to the problems 
of racial efficiency, of race-psychology, and to all those tasks that 
Galton described as the first duty of a nation—‘in short, to make 
every individual efficient both through Nature and by Nurture.’ 

Does this mean that we are to turn our backs on the past, to 
desert all our prehistoric studies and to make anthropology the servant 
of sanitation and commerce? Not in the least; if you think this is my 
doctrine I have indeed failed to make myself even roughly clear to-day. 
Such teaching is wholly opposed to my view of the function of science. 
I feel quite convinced that you cannot understand man of to-day, savage 
or civilised, his body or his mind, unless you know his past evolution, 
unless you have studied fully all the scanty evidence we have of the 
stages of his ascent. I should like to illustrate this by an incident 
which came recently to my notice, because it may indicate to some 
of those present the difficulties with which the anthropologist has to 
contend to avoid misunderstanding. 

Looking into the ancestry of man and tracing him backward to a 
being who was not man and was not ape, had this prot-simio-human, 
in the light of our present knowledge, more resemblance to the gibbon 
or to the chimpanzee as we know them to-day? Some naturalists 
link man up to the apes by a gibbonlike form, others by a troglodyte 
type of ancestor. Some would make a push to do without either. But 
granted the alternative, which is the more probable? This is the 
problem of the hylobatic or the troglodyte origin of man. I had given 
a lecture on the subject, confining my arguments solely to characters 
of the thigh-bone. Now there chanced to be a statesman present, a 
man who has had large responsibilities in the government of many races. 

I have been honoured by seeing his comments on my lecture. ‘I am 
not,’ he says, ‘ particularly interested in the descent of man. I do 
not believe much in heredity, and this scientific pursuit of the dead 
bones of the past does not seem to me a very useful way of spending 
‘life. I am accustomed to this mode of study; learned volumes have 
_been written in Sanscrit to explain the conjunction of the two vowels 
“‘a’’ and ‘‘u.’’ It is very learned, very ingenious, but not very help- 
ful. . . . I am not concerned with my genealogy so much as with my 
future. Our intellects can be more advantageously employed than in 


finding our diversity from the ape... There may be noispirit, no 
soul: there is no proof of their existence. If that is so, let us do 
-away with shams and live like animals. If, on the other hand, there 
is a soul to be looked after, let us all strain our nerves to the task; 
there is no use in digging into the sands of time for the skeletons of 
the past: build your man for the future.’ 

What is the reply of anthropology to this indictment of the states- 
man? You cannot brush it lightly aside. It is the statement of a 
good man and a strong man who is willing to spend his life in the service 
of his fellows. He sees us handling fossils and potsherds and cannot 
perceive the social utility of our studies. He does not believe any 
enthusiasm for human progress can lie beneath the spade and callipers 
of the scientific investigator. He has never grasped that the man of 
to-day is precisely what heredity and his genealogy, his past history 
and his prehistory, have made him. He does not recognise that it is 
impossible to build your man for the future until you have studied the 
origin of his physical and mental constitution. Whence did he draw 
his good and evil characteristics—are they the product of his nature or 
his nurture? Man has not a plastic mind and body which the enthu- 
silastic reformer can at will mould to the model of his golden age ideals. 
He has taken thousands of years to grow into what he is, and only by 
like processes of evolution—intensified and speeded up, if we work 
consciously and with full knowledge of the past—can we build his 

It does matter in regard to the gravest problems before mankind 
to-day whether our ancestry was hylobatic or troglodyte. For five years 
the whole world has been a stage for brutality and violence. We ‘have 
seen a large part of the youth who were best fitted mentally and 
physically to be parents of future generations perish throughout Europe : 
the dysgenic effect of this slaughter will show itself each twenty ‘to 
twenty-five years for centuries to come in the census returns of half 
the countries of the world. Science undertook work which national 
feeling bade it do, but-on which it will ever look back with a shuddering 
feeling of distaste, an uneasy consciousness of having soiled its hands. 
And as aftermath we see in almost every land an orgy of violent crime, 
a sense of lost security, and at times we dread that our very civilisation 
may perish owing to the weakening of the social ties, a deadening of 
the responsibilities of class to class. This outbreak of violence which 
has so appalled the thinking world, is it the sporadic appearance of an 
innate-passion for the raw and brutal in mankind, or is it the outcome 
of economic causes forcing the nations of the world to the combat for 
limited food and material supplies? I wish we could attribute it to 
the latter source, for then we could eradicate the spirit of violence by 
changing environmental conditions. But if the spirit of violence ‘be 
innate in man, if there be times when he not only sees red but rejoices 
in it—and that was the strong impression I formed when T crossed 
Germany on August 1, 1914—then outbreaks of violence will not cease 
till troglodyte mentality is bred out of man. ‘That is why the question 
of troglodyte or hylobatic ancestry ‘is nota ‘pursuit of dead bones. It 
is @ vital problem en which turns much of folk-psychology. Tt is a 


problem utile to the State, in that it throws light on whether nature 
or nurture is the more likely to build up man’s future—and save him 
from the recurrence of such another quinquennium. 

The critic to whom I have referred was not idle in his criticism. 
He had not been taught that evolutionary doctrine has its bearings on 
practical life. The biologist and the anthropologist are at fault; they 
have too often omitted to show that their problems have a very close 
relation to those of the statesman and the social reformer, and that the 
problems of the latter cannot be solved without a true insight into 
man’s past, without a knowledge of the laws of heredity, and without a 
due appreciation of the causes which underlie great folk-movements. 

(ii) Insistence on Institutes of Anthropology. 

The anthropological problems of the present day are so numerous 
and so pressing that we can afford to select those of the greatest 
utility. Indeed, the three university institutes of anthropology I have 
suggested would have to specialise and then work hard to keep abreast 
of the problems which will crowd upon them. One might take the 
European races, another Asia and the Pacific, and a third Africa. 
America in anthropology can well look after itself. In each case we 
need something on the scale of the Paris Ecole d’Anthropologie, with 
its seventeen professors and teachers, with its museums and journals. 
But we want something else—a new conception of the range of 
problems to be dealt with and a new technique. From such schools 
would pass out men with academic training fit to become officials, 
diplomatic agents, teachers, missionaries, and traders in Europe, in 
Asia, or in Africa, men with intelligent appreciation of and sympathy 
with the races among whom they proposed to work. 

But this extra-State work, important as it is, is hardly comparable 
in magnitude with the intra-State work which lies ready to hand for 
the anthropological laboratory that has the will, the staff, and the 
equipment to take it up efficiently. In the present condition of affairs 
it is only too likely that much of this work, being psychometric, will 
fall into the hands of the psychologist, whereas it is essentially the 
fitting work of the anthropologist, who should come to the task, it 
fitly trained, with a knowledge of comparative material and of the 
past history, mental and physical, of mankind, on which his present 
faculties so largely depend. The danger has arisen because the anthro- 
pometer has forgotten that it is as much his duty to measure the 
human mind as it is his duty to measure the human body, and that it is 
as much his duty to measure the functional activities of the human 
body—its dynamical characters—as its statical characters. By dyna- 
mical characters I understand such qualities as resistance to fatigue, 
facility in physical and mental tasks, immunity to disease, excitability 
under stimuli, and many kindred properties. If you tell me that we are 
here trenching on the field of psychology and medicine, I reply: Cer- 
tainly ; you do not suppose that any form of investigation which deals 
with man—body or mind—is to be omitted from the science of man? If 
you do you have failed to grasp why anthropology is the queen of the 
sciences. The University anthropological institute of the future will 

1920 u 


have attached to it a psychologist, a medical officer, and a biologist. 
They are essential portions of its requisite staff, but this is a very 
different matter from lopping off large and important branches of its 
fitting studies, to lie neglected on the ground, or to be dragged away, 
as dead wood, to be hewn and shapen for other purposes by scientific 
colleagues in other institutes. Remember that I am emphasising that 
side of anthropology which studies man in the service of the State— 
anthropology as a utile science—and that this is the only ground 
on which anthropology can appeal for support and sympathy from 
State, from municipality, and from private donors. You will notice 
that I lay stress on the association of the anthropological institute 
with the university, and the reasons for this are manifold. In the 
first place, every science is stimulated by contact with the workers in 
allied sciences; in the second place, the institute must be a teaching 
as well as a researching body, and it can only do this effectively in 
association with an academic centre—a centre from which to draw 
its students and to recruit its staff. In the third place, a great university 
provides a wide field for anthropometric studies in its students and 
its staff. And the advantages are mutual. It is not of much service 
to hand a student a card containing his stature, his weight, his eye 
colour, and his head length! Most of these he can find out for himself ! 
But it is of importance to him to know something of how his eye, heart, 
and respiration function ; it is of importance to him to know the general 
character of his mental qualities, and how they are associated with 
the rapidity and steadiness of muscular responses. Knowledge on 
these points may lead him to a fit choice of a career, or at any rate 
save him from a thoroughly bad. choice. 

In the course of my life I have often received inquiries from school- 
masters of the following kind: We are setting up a school anthropo- 
metric laboratory, and we propose to measure stature, weight, height 
sitting, &c. Can you suggest anything else we should measure? 

My invariable reply is: Don’t start measuring anything at all until, 
you have settled the problems you wish to answer, and then just 
measure the characters in an adequate number of your boys, which 
will enable you to solve those problems. Use your school as a labora- 
tory, not as a weighhouse. 

And I might add, if I were not in dread of giving offence: And 
most certainly do not measure anything at all if you have no problem 
to solve, for unless you haye you cannot have the true spirit of the 
anthropologist, and you will merely increase that material up and down 
in the schools of the country which nobody is turning to any real use. 

Which of us, who is a parent, has not felt the grave responsibility 
of advising a child on the choice of a profession? We have before us, 
perhaps, a few meagre examination results, an indefinite knowledge 
of the self-chosen occupations of the child, and perhaps some regard 
to the past experience of the family or clan. Possibly we say John is 
good with his hands and does not care for lessons; therefore he should 
be an engineer. That may be a correct judgment if we understand 
by engineer, the engine-driver or mechanic. It is not true if we think of 
the builders of Forth Bridges and Avsuan Dams. Such men work 


with the head and not the hand. One of the functions of the anthro- 
pological laboratory of a great university, one of the functions of a 
school anthropometric laboratory, should be to measure those physical 
and mental characters and their inter-relations upon which a man’s 
success in a given career so much depends. Its function should be to 
guide youth in the choice of a calling, and in the case of a school to 
enable the headmaster to know something of the real nature of indi- 
vidual boys, so that that much-tried man does not feel compelled to 
hide his ignorance by cabalistic utterances when parents question him 
on what their son is fitted for. 

Wide, however, as is the anthropometric material in our universities 
and public schools, it touches only a section of the population. The 
modern anthropologist has to go further; he has to enter the doors of 
the primary schools; he has to study the general population in all its 
castes, its craftsmen, and its sedentary workers. Anthropology has to 
be useful to commerce and to the State, not only in association with 
foreign races, but still more in the selection of the right men and women 
for the staff of factory, mine, office, and transport. ‘The selection of 
workmen to-day by what is too often a rough trial and discharge method 
is one of the wasteful factors of production. Few employers even ask 
what trades parents and grandparents have followed, nor consider the 
relation of a man’s physique and mentality to his proposed employment. 
T admit that progress in this direction will be slow, but if the work 
undertaken in this sense by the anthropologist be well devised, accurate, 
and comprehensive, the anthropometric laboratory will gradually obtain 
an assured position in commercial appreciation. As a beginning, the 
anthropologist by an attractive museum, by popular lectures and demon- 
strations, should endeavour to create, as Sir Francis Galton did at 
South Kensington, an anthropometric laboratory frequented by the 
general population, as well as by the academic class. Thus he will 
obtain a wider range of material. But the anthropologist, if he is to 
advance his science and emphasise its services to the State, must pass 
beyond the university, the school, and the factory. He must study 
what makes for wastage in our present loosely organised society; he 
must investigate the material provided by reformatory, prison, asylums 
for the insane and mentally defective; he must carry his researches into 
the inebriate home, the sanatorium, and the hospital, side by side with 
his medical collaborator. Here is endless work for the immediate 
future, and work in which we are already leagues behind our American 
colleagues. For them the psychometric and anthropometric laboratory 
attached to asylum, prison, and reformatory is no startling innovation, 
to be spoken of with bated breath. It is a recognised institution of the 
United States to-day, and from such laboratories the ‘ fieldworkers ’ 
pass out, finding out and reporting on the share parentage and environ- 
ment have had in the production of the abnormal and the diseased, of 
the anti-social of all kinds. Some of this work is excellent, some in- 
different, some perhaps worthless, but this will always be the case in the 
expansion of new branches of applied science. The training of the 
workers must be largely of an experimental character, the technique has 
to be devised as the work develops. Instructors and directors have to be 

L 2 


appointed, who have not been trained ad hoc. But this is remedying 
itself, and if indeed, when we start, we also do not at first limp some- 
what lamely along these very paths, it will only be because we have 
the advantage of American experience. 

There is little wonder that in America anthropology is no longer the 
stepchild of the State. It has demanded its heritage, and shown that 
it can use it for the public good. 

Tf I have returned to my first insistence that the problems handled 
by the anthropologist shall be those useful to the State, it is because 
I have not seen that point insisted upon in this country, and it is 
because my first insistence, like my third, involves the second for its 
effectiveness—the establishment in our chief universities of anthro- 
pological institutes. A's Gustay Schwalbe said of anthropology in 1907 
—and he was a man who thought before he spoke, and whose death 
during the war is a loss to anthropologists the whole world over— a 
lasting improvement can only arise if the State recognises that anthro- 
pology is a science pre-eminently of value to the State, a science which 
not only deserves but can demand that chairs shall be officially estab- 
lished for it in every university. . . Only this spread of officially 
authorised anthropology in all German universities can enable it to fulfil 
its task, that of trainmg men who, well armed with the weapon of 
anthropological knowledge, will be able to place their skill at the service 
of the State, which will ever have need of them in increasing numbers.’ ® 

Our universities are not, as in Germany, Government-controlled 
institutions, although such control is yearly increasing. Here we have 
first to show that we are supporting the State before the State somewhat 
grudgingly will give its support to us. Hence the immediate aim of the 
anthropologist should be—not to suggest that the State should a priori 
assist work not yet undertaken, but to do what he can with the limited 
resources in his power, and when he has shown that what he has 
achieved is, notwithstanding his limitations, of value to the State, then 
he is in a position to claim effective support for his science. 

I have left myself little time to place fairly before you my third 

(iii) Insistence on the Adoption of a New Technique. 

What is it that a young man seeks when he enters the university— 
if we put aside for a moment any social advantages, such as the forma- 
tion of lifelong friendships associated therewith? He seeks, or ought 
to seek, training for the mind. He seeks, or ought to seek, an open 
doorway to a calling which will be of use to himself, and wherein he 
will take his part, a useful part, in the social organisation of which 
he finds himself a member. Much as we may all desire it, in the 
pressure of modern life, it is very difficult for the young man of moderate 
means to look upon the university training as something apart from 
his professional training. Men more and more select their academic 
studies with a view to their professional value.. Wecan no longer com- 
bine the senior wranglership with the pursuit of a. judgeship; we cannot 

§ Correspondenz Blatt, Jahrg, xxxyiil., 8. 68. 

“ge _  .H.— ANTHROPOLOGY: 149 

pass out in the classical tripos and aim at settling down in life as a 
Harley Street consultant; we cannot take a D.Sc. in chemistry as a 
preliminary to a journalistic career. It is the faculties which provide 
professional training that are crowded, and men study nowadays physics 
or chemistry because they wish to be physicists or chemists, or seek by 
their knowledge of these sciences to reach commercial posts. Even the 
very Faculty of Arts runs the danger of becoming a professional school 
for elementary school teachers. I do not approve this state of affairs; I 
would merely note its existence. But granted it, what does anthro- 
pology offer to the young man who for a moment considers it as a 
possible academic study? ‘There are no professional posts at present 
open to him, and few academic posts.* ‘There is little to attract the 
young man to anthropology as a career. Is its position as a training 
of mind any sironger? The student knows if he studies physics or 
chemistry or engineering that he will obtain a knowledge of the prin- 
ciples of observation, of measurement, and of the interpretation of data, 
which will serve him in good stead whenever he has to deal with pheno- 
mena of any kind. But, alas! in anthropology, while he finds many 
things of surpassing interest, he discovers no generally accepted methods 
of attacking new problems, quot homines, tot sententie. The type of 
man we want in anthropology is precisely the man who now turns to 
mathematics, to physics, and to astronomy—the man with an exact 
mind who will not take statements on authority and who believes in 
testing all things. To such a man anthropometry—in all its branches, 
craniometry, psychometry, and the wide field in which body and mind 
are tested together under dynamic conditions—forms a splendid training, 
provided his data and observations are treated as seriously as those of 
the physicist or astronomer by adequate mathematical analysis. Such a 
type of man is at once repelled from our science if he finds in its 
text-books and journals nothing but what has been fitly termed ‘ kinder- 
garten arithmetic.’ Why, the other day I saw in a paper by a dis- 
tinguished anthropologist an attempt to analyse how many individual 
bones he ought to measure. Headopted the simple process of comparing 
the results he obtained when he took 10, 20, 30 individuals. He was 
not really wiser at the end of his analysis than at the beginning, though 
he thought he was. And this, notwithstanding that the whole matter 
had been thrashed out scientifically by John Bernoulli two centuries 
ago, and that its solution is a commonplace of physicist and astronomer ! 

How can we expect the scientific world to take us seriously and 
to treat anthropology as the equal of other sciences while this state 
of affairs is possible? What discipline in logical exactness are we 
offering to academic youth which will compare with that of the older 
sciences? What claim have we to advise the State until we have intro- 
duced a sounder technique and ceased to believe that anthropometry is 
a science that any man can follow, with or without training? As I 
have hinted, the problems of anthropology seem to me as subtle as 

® In London, for example, there is a reader in physical anthropology who is 
a teacher in anatomy, and a professorship in ethnology, which for some 
mysterious reason is included in the faculty of economics and is, I believe, not 
a full-time appointment. : 


those of physical astronomy, and we are not going to solve thei with 
rusty weapons, nor solve them at all unless we can persuade the 
“brainy boys ’ of our universities that they are worthy of keen minds. 
Hence it seems to me that the most fertile training for academic pur- 
poses in anthropology is that which starts from anthropometry in its 
broadest sense, which begins to differentiate caste and class and race, 
bodily and mental health and disease, by measurement and by the 
analysis of measurement. Once this sound grounding has been reached 
the trained mind may advance to ethnology and sociology, to prehistory 
and the evolution of man. And I shall be surprised if equal accuracy 
of statement and equal logic of deduction be not then demanded in 
these fields, and I am more than half convinced, nay, I am certain, 
that the technique the student will apply in anthropometry can be 
equally well applied in the wider fields into which he will advance in 
his later studies. Give anthropology a technique as accurate as that 
of physics, and it will forge ahead as physics have done, and then 
anthropologists will take their due place in the world of science and 
in the service of the State. 

Francis Galton has a claim upon the attention of anthropologists 
which I have not. He has been President of your Institute, and he 
spoke just thirty-five years ago from the chair I now occupy, pressing 
on you for the first time the claims of new anthropological methods. 
in Galton’s words: ‘ Until the phenomena of any branch of knowledge 
have been submitted to measurement and number it cannot assume the 
status and dignity of a Science.’ Have we not rather forgotten those 
warning words, and do they not to some extent explain why our 
universities and learned societies, why the State and statesmen, have 
turned the cold shoulder on anthropology ? . 

This condition of affairs must not continue; it is good neither for 
anthropology, nor for the universities, nor for the State if this funda- 
mental science, the science of man, remains in neglect. It will not 
continue if anthropologists pull together and insist that their problems 
shall not fail in utility, that their scientific technique shall be up to 
date; and that anthropological training shall be a reality in our univer- 
sities—that these shall be fully equipped with museums, with material, 
with teachers and students. 

it is almost as difficult to reform a science as it is to reform a 
réligion; in both cases the would-be reformer will offend the sacrosanct 
upholders of tradition, who find it hard to discard the faith in which 
they have been reared. But it seems to me that the difficulties of our 
time plead loudly for a broadening of the purpose and a sharpening of 
the weapons of anthropology. If we elect to stand where we have 
done a new science will respond to the needs of State and Society; it 
will spring from medicine and psychology, it will be the poorer in 
that it knows little of man’s development, little of his history or pre- 
history. But it will devote itself to the urgent problems of the day. 
The future lies with the nation that most truly plans for the future, 
that studies most accurately the factors which will improve the racial 
qualities of future generations either physically or mentally. Is 
anthropology to lie outside this essential function of the science of . 

man? If I understand the recent manifesto of the German anthropo- 
logists, they are determined it shall not be so. The war is at an end, 
but the critical time will be with us again, I sadly fear, in twenty 
to thirty years. How will the States of Hurope stand then? It 
depends to no little extent on how each of them may have cultivated 
the science of man and applied its teaching to the improvement of 
national physique and mentality. Let us take care that our nation 
is not the last) in this legitimate rivalry. The organisation of existing 
human society with a view to its future welfare is the crowning task 
of the science of man; it needs the keenest-minded investigators, the 
most stringent technique, and the utmost sympathy from all classes 
of society itself. Have we,-as anthropologists, the courage to face this 
greatest of all tasks in the light of our knowledge of the past and 
with our understanding of the folk of to-day? Or shall we assert that 
anthropology is after all only a small part of the science of man, and 
retreat to our study of bones and potsherds on the ground that science 
is to be studied for its own sake and not for the sake of mankind? I 
do not know what answer you will give to that question, yet I am 
convinced what the judgment of the future on your answer is certain 
to be. It will be similar to Wang Yang Ming’s reproof of the com- 
placency of the Chinese cultured classes of his day: “Thought and 
Learning are of little value, if they be not translated into Action.’ 






J. BARCROFT, C.B.E., M.A., F.R.S., 

ProMINENT among the pathological conditions which claimed attention 
during the war was that of insufficient oxygen supply to the tissues, or 
anoxemia. For this there were several reasons; on the one hand, 
anoxeemia clearly was a factor to be considered in the elucidation of such 
conditions as are induced by gas-poisoning, shock, &. On the other 
hand, knowledge had just reached the point at which it was possible to 
discuss anoxzemia on a new level. It is not my object in the present 
address to give any account of war-physiology—the war has passed, and 
I, for one, have no wish to revive its memories, but anoxemig remains, 
and, as it is a factor scarcely less important in peace than in war 
pathology, I think I shall not do wrong in devoting an hour to its 

The object of my address, therefore, will be to inquire, and, if pos- 
sible to state, where we stand; to sift, if I can, the knowledge from 
the half-knowledge; to separate what is ascertained as the result of 
unimpeachable experiment from what is but guessed on the most likely 
hypothesis. In war it was often necessary to act on defective informa- 
tion, because action was necessary and defective information was the 
best that was to be had. In this, as in many other fields of know- 
ledge, the whole subject should be reviewed, the hypotheses tested ex- 
perimentally, and the gaps filled in. The sentence which lives in my 
mind as embodying the problem of anoxeemia comes from the pen of 
one who has given more concentrated thought to the subject than per- 
haps any other worker—Dr. J. §. Haldane. It runs, ‘ Anoxeemia. not 
only stops the machine but wrecks the machinery.’ This phrase puts 
the matter so clearly that I shall commence by an inquiry as to the 
limits within which it is true. 

Anything like complete anoxemia stops the machine with almost 
incredible rapidity. It is true that the breath can be held for a con- 
siderable time, but it must be borne in mind that the lungs have a 
volume of about three litres at any moment, that they normally 
contain about half a litre of oxygen, and that this will suffice for the 
body at rest for upwards of two minutes. But get rid of the residual 
oxygen from the lungs only to the very imperfect extent which is 

1 See References, page 168. 


possible by the breathing of some neutral gas, such as nitrogen, and you 
will find that only with difficulty will you endure half a minute. Yet 
even such a test gives no real picture of the impotence of the machine 
—which is the brain—to ‘ carry on’ in the absence of oxygen. For, 
on the one hand, nearly a quarter of a minute elapses before the reduced 
blood gets to the capillary in the brain, so that the machine has only 
carried on for the remaining quarter of a minute; on the other hand, 
the arterial blood under such circumstances is far from being com- 
pletely reduced—in fact, it has very much the composition of ordinary 
venous blood, which means that it contains about half its usual quotum 
of oxygen. It seems doubtful whether complete absence of oxygen 
would not bring the brain to an instantaneous standstill. So convincing 
are the experimental facts to anyone who has tested them for himself 
that I will not further labour the power of anoxemia to stop the 
machine. I will, however, say a word about the assumption which I 
have made that the machine in this connection is the brain. 

It cannot be stated too clearly that anoxzemia in the last resort must 
affect every organ of the body directly. Stoppage of the oxygen supply 
is known, for instance, to bring the perfused heart to a standstill, to 
cause a cessation of the flow of urine, to produce muscular fatigue, and 
at last immobility, but from our present standpoimt these effects of 
anoxemia seem to me to be out of the picture, because the brain is so 
much the most sensitive to oxygen want. Therefore, if the problem is 
the stoppage of the machine due to an insufficient general supply of 
oxygen, I have little doubt that the machine stops because the brain 
stops, and here at once I am faced with the question how far is this 
assumption and how far is it proven fact? I freely answer that research 
in this field is urgent; at present there is too great an element of assump- 
tion, but there is also a certain amount of fact. 

To what extent does acute anoxemia in a healthy subject wreck the 
machinery as well as stop the machine? By acute anoxemia I mean 
complete or almost complete deprivation of oxygen which, in the 
matter of time, is too short to prove fatal. It is not easy to obtain 
quite clear-cut experiments in answer to the above question. No 
doubt many data might be quoted of men who have recovered from 
drowning, &c. Such data are complicated by the fact that anoxemia 
has only beer a factor in their condition; other factors, such as 
accumulation of carbonic acid, may also have contributed to at. 
The remarkable fact about most of them, however, is the slight- 
ness of the injury which the machine has suffered. These data, 
therefore, have a value in so far as they show that a very great degree 
of anoxemia, if acute and of short duration, may be experienced with 
but little wreckage to the machine. They have but little value in show- 
ing that such wreckage is due to the anoxemia, because the anoxsemia 
has not been the sole disturbance. Of such cases I will quote two. 

The first is that of a pupil of my own who received a gunshot 
wound in the head, to the prejudice of his cerebral circulation. I 
can give you the most perfect assurance that neither intellectually 
nor physically has the catastrophe which befell him caused any 
permanent injury. For the notes of the case I am indebted to 


Colonel Sir William Hale White. My pupil fell wounded at 6.50 a.m.’ 
on 20th of November 1917. As far as is known, he lay insensible 
for about two hours. Picked up five hours after the wound, he 
could not move either upper or lower extremity. Thirty-six hours 
after the wound he underwent an operation which showed that the 
superior sagittal sinus was blocked, happily not by a thrombus, but by 
being torn and having pieces of the inner table of the skull thrust into 
it, so that for this period of time the motor areas on both sides down 
to the face area were asphyxiated, the right being much more affected 
than the left. Six days after the wound the cerebration was still slow, 
with typically vacant look. 

In the left upper extremity the muscular power was much improved ; 
he could raise his arm to his mouth, but he preferred to be fed. 

In the right upper extremity there were no movements in the 
shoulder, elbow, or wrist, but he could flex and extend the fingers 

In the left lower extremity there were fair movements of hip and 

knee, no movements of ankle and toes. 

In the right lower extremity there were no movements of hip, knee, 
ankle, or toes. 

Six weeks after the wound he first walked, although with difficulty ; 
absolutely the last place in which the paresis remained was in the 
muscles of the right toes. Four months after the injury these toes 
were spread out and could not be brought together voluntarily. 
Gradually this has become less, but even now, two and a-half years 
later, all these muscles are weaker than those on the other side. ~~ 

Such, then, is the wreckage of the machine caused by thirty-six 
hours’ blockage of the blood-flow through the motor areas of the brain; 
wreckage enough but not irreparable. 

I pass to the second case. It is that of the child of a well-known 
Professor of Physiology and a first authority on the subject of respira- 
tion. I am indebted to him for the following notes: 

In this child, a male twin, born about twelve weeks too early; it was 
noticed about twenty-four hours after birth that the breathing during 
sleep was irregular and of a very pronounced Cheyne Stokes type, six to 
ten breaths being followed by a pause during which no respiratory move- 
ment occurred. Usually the pauses were of fifteen to twenty seconds’ 
duration, but occasionally (two to ten times a day) the breathing remained 
suspended for a prolonged period, extending in some cases to ten and 
fifteen minutes, and in one accurately observed case even to twenty-five 
minutes, interrupted by one single breath and a cry about the middle of 

the period. The breathing invariably started again before the heart-' 

beats ceased. 

Cases in which the anoxemia has been uncomplicated are to be 
found among those who have been exposed to low atmospheric pres- 
sures; for instance, balloonists and aviators. Of these quité a con- 
siderable number have suffered from oxygen want to the extent of being 
unconscious for short intervals of time. 

No scientific observer has pushed a general condition of anoxeemia: 
either on himself or on ‘his fellows to ths extent of complete unconscious-: 

wwe dk 

ay hemes 



. 1—Prvsioioay. 155 

ness. ‘The most severe experiments of this nature are those carried out 
by Haldane and his colleagues. One experiment in particular demands 
attention. Dr. Haldane and Dr, Kellas* together spent an hour in 
a chamber in which the air was reduced to between 320 and 295 mm. 
Tt is difficult to say how far they were conscious. Clearly each 
believed the other to be complete master of his own faculties, but it is 
evident that Dr. Haldane was not so. I gather that he has no recollec- 
tion of what took place, that whenever he was consulted about the 
pressure he gave a stereotyped answer which was the same for all 
questions, that, even with a little more oxygen present, he was suffi- 
ciently himself to wish to investigate the colour of his lips in the glass, 
but msufficiently himself to be conscious that he was looking into the 
back and not the front of the mirror. Dr. Kellas, who could make 
observations, never discovered Dr. Haldane’s mental condition, though 
boxed up with him for an hour, and went on consulting him auto- 
matically. A somewhat similar experiment was performed on the other 
two observers, with results differing only in degree. 

Yet the after-effects are summed up in the following sentence: 
“All four observers suffered somewhat from headache for several hours 
after these experiments, but there was no nausea or loss of appetite.’ 

Of real importance in this connection are the results of carbon 
monoxide poisoning. Of these a large number might. be cited. Those 
interested will find some very instructive cases described in a volume 
entitled ‘The Investigation of Mine Air,’ by the late Sir C. Le Neve 
Foster and Dr. Haldane.* The cases in question were those of a 
number of officials who went to investigate the mine disaster on 
Snaefell, in the Isle of Man, in May 1897. Of the five cases cited all 
suffered some after-effects, by which I mean that by the time the blood 
was restored sufficiently to its normal condition for the tissues to get 
the amount of oxygen which they required, the effects of the asphyxia 
had not passed off and to this extent the machine suffered, e.g. 

Mr. W. H. Kitto says: ‘On reaching terra firma I felt very ill and 
wanted to vomit . . . through the night. I had severe palpitation of the heart, 
a thing I have never felt in my life before or since. On the day following, 
Thursday, the pain in my knees was so great that I could not stand properly, 
and for fully a week I had great pain when walking, and still (a month 
later) feel slight effects of the poisoning.’ 

_ Of the five whose experiences were given, the one who received the 
most permanent damage was Sir Clement Foster himself. 

_ A few days after I got back from the island the first time, about the 
21st or 22nd of May, I noticed my heart; it could scarcely be called palpitation, 
as 1 understand palpitations to be, for there did not seem to be any increased 
ety of the action, but I was conscious of its beating; as a rule, I am not. 
This passed off, and then on the Ist and 2nd of June I noticed it very decidedly 

ain, 80 much so that I went to my doctor. He sounded me, and said the 
heart was all right, though there was one sound which was not very distinct. 

is consciousness of having a heart still returns from time to time, though’ 
only to a slight extent. On the 19th May I suffered much from headache, not 
pgularly, but intermittently. The headache lasted for several days, and the 
feeling in the legs was very apparent; it was an aching in the legs from the 
knees to the ankles. A coldness from the knees to the soles of the feet 
wag ‘also noticeable; it came on occasionally for a considerable time. The 


headaches continued at intervals for some time, and lasted certainly for some: 
months after the accident; indeed, I cannot say that they have disappeared 

To sum up, then, what may be said of the permanent damage caused 
by acute anoxemia, it seems to me to be as follows: No degree of 
anoxemia which produces a less effect than that of complete uncon- 
sciousness leaves anything more than the most transient effects; if the 
anoxeemia be pushed to the point at which the subject is within a 
measurable distance of death, the results may take days or weeks to get 
over, but only in the case of elderly or unsound persons is the machine 
wrecked beyond repair. 

Chronic Anozemia. 

And now to pass to the consideration of what I may call chronic 
anoxemia ; that is to say, oxygen want which perhaps is not very great 
in amount—and I shall have to say something later about the measure- 
ment of anoxeemia in units—but which is continued over a long time: 
weeks, months, or perhaps years. We have to ask ourselves, how far 
does chronic anoxeemia stop the machinery; how far does it wreck the 
machine? Here we are iaced with a much more difficult problem, for 
the distinction between stopping the machinery and wrecking the 
machine tends to disappear. In fact so indistinct does it become that 
you may ask yourself, with some degree of justice, does chronic 
anoxemia stop the machine in any other way than by wrecking it? 

The most obvious instances of men subject to chronic anoxemia 
are the dwellers at high altitudes. Now, it is quite clear that in many 
instances of mountain-dwellers the anoxemia does not wreck the 
machine. On what I may call the average healthy man anoxemia 
begins to tell at about 18,000 feet. At lower altitudes no doubt he 
will have some passing trouble, but it seems to me from my own 
experience that this altitude is a very criticalone. Yet there are mining 
camps at such heights in South America at which the work of life 
is carried on. Under such circumstances the machine is kept going 
by a process Of compensation. ‘This is in part carried out by a modifi- 
cation in the chemical properties of the blood. It would appear that 
both the carbonic acid in the blood and the alkali diminish. The 
result, according to my interpretation of my own observations on the 
Peak of Teneriffe, which appeared to be confirmed by the experi- 
ments in a chamber in Copenhagen* from which the air was partially 
exhausted, was this: The hydrogen ion concentration of the blood 
increased slightly, the respiratory centre worked more actively, and the 
lung became better ventilated with oxygen, with the natural result that. 
the blood became more oxygenated than it would otherwise have been. 

The difference which this degree of acclimatisation made was very 
great. Take as an example one of my colleagues, Dr. Roberts. On 
Monte Rosa in his case, as in that of the rest of the party, 15 mm. of 
oxygen pressure were gained in the lungs. To put the matter another 
way, the amount of oxygen in our lungs at the summit was what it 
would otherwise have been 5,000 or 6,000 feet lower down. No actual 
analyses of the oxygen in Roberts’ arterial blood were made, but from 
what we now know it seems probable that his blood was about 82 per 


cent. saturated; that is to say, that for every hundred grams of 
hemoglobin in the blood 82 were oxyhemoglobin and 18 reduced 
hemoglobin ; had this degree of acclimatisation not taken place his blood 
would have contained as many as 38 parts of unoxidised hemoglobin 
out of every hundred, and this would probably have made all the differ- 
ence between the machine stopping and going on. 

The body, then, had fought the anoxeemia and reduced it very much 
in degree, but at the same time the anoxemia had, in a subtle way, 
done much to stop the powers of the body, for this very acclimatisation 
is effected at the expense of the ultimate reserve which the body has 
at its disposal for the purpose of carrying out muscular or other work. 
The oxygen in the lungs was obtained essentially by breathing at rest 
as you would normally do when taking some exercise. Clearly, then, if 
you are partly out of breath before you commence exercise you cannot 
undertake so much as you otherwise would do. As a friend of mine, 
who has, I believe, camped at a higher altitude than any other man, 
put it to me, ‘ So great was the effort that we thought twice before we 
turned over in bed.’ 

One of the interesting problems with regard to chronic anoxemia 
is its effect upon the mind. Working from the more acute type of 
anoxeemia to the more chronic, the following quotation will give an 
account of the condition of a person in the acute stage. It is Sir 
Clement Le Neve Foster’s account of himself during CO poisoning, and 
shows loss of memory, some degree of intelligence, and a tendency to 
repeat what is said: 

How soon I realised that, we were in what is commonly called ‘a tight place’ 
1 cannot say, but eventually, from long force of habit, I presume, I took out 
my note-book. At what o'clock I first began to write I do not. know, for 
the few words written on the first page have no hour put to them. They were 
simply a few words of good-bye to my family, badly scribbled. The next page 
is headed ‘2 p.m.,’ and I perfectly well recollect taking out my watch from 
time to time. As a rule I do not take a watch underground, but I carried 
it on this occasion in order to be sure that I left the rat long enough when 
testing with it. In fact, my note on the day of our misadventure was 
“Sth ladder. Rat two minutes at man,’ meaning by the side of the corpse. 
My notes at 2 p.m. were as follows: ‘2 p.m., good-bye, we are all dying, your 
Clement, I feel we are dying, good-bye, all my darlings all, no help coming, good- 
bye we are dying, good-bye, good-bye we are dying, no help comes, good-bye, 
good-bye.” Then later, partly scribbled over some ‘ good-byes’ I find, ‘We 
saw a body at’ 1.30 and then all became affected by the bad air, we have got tothe 
115 and can get no further, the box does not come in spite of our ringing for help. 
It does not come, does not come—I wish the box would come. Captain R. is 
shouting. my legs are bad, and I feel very1, my knees are 1.’ The so-called 
‘ringing’ was signalling to the surface by striking the air-pipe with a hammer 
or bar of iron. We had agreed upon signals before we went down. There is 
writing over other writing, as if I did not see exactly where I placed my 
pencil, and then: ‘I feel as if I were dreaming, no real pain, good-bye, 
good-bye, I feel as if I were sleeping.’ ‘2.15 we are all done. No 1, or 
searcely any, we are done, we are done, godo-bye my darlings.’ Here it is 
rather interesting to note the ‘ godo’ instead of ‘good.’ Before very long the 
fresh men who had climbed down to rescue us seemed to have arrived, and 
explained that the ‘box’ was caught in the shaft. Judging by my notes I did 
not realise thoroughly that we should be rescued. Among them occur the words 
“No pain, it is merely like a dream, no pain.” TI frequently wrote the same 
sentence over and over again. My last note on reaching the surface tells of 

1 in the above quotation indicates an illegible word in the notes, 


that resistance to authority which likewise appears to be a symptom of the 

These notes afford ample confirmation of the effect produced by carbonic 
oxide poisoning of causing reiteration, I wrote the same words over and over 
again unnecessarily. The condition I was in was rather curious. JT had 
absorbed enough of the poison to paralyse me to a certain extent and dull my 
feelings, but at the same time my reason had not left me. 

The whole train of symptoms strongly suggests some form of 
intoxication, and is not dissimilar to that produced by alcoholic excess. 
Here it may be noted that, as far as isolated nerves are concerned, there 
is pretty good evidence that alcohol and want of oxygen produce 
exactly the same effects, i.e. they cause a decrement in the conducting 
power of the nerve. And herein lies a part of its interest, for pharma- 
cologists of one school at all events tell me that the corresponding 
effects of alcohol are really due to an inhibition of the higher centres of 
the mind; you can therefore conceive of the mental mechanism of self- 
control being knocked out either because it has not oxygen enough with 
which to ‘carry on,’ or because it is drugged by some poison as a 
secondary result of the anoxeemia. 

And now to pass to the results of more chronic anoxemia. If I 
were to try to summarise them in a sentence I should say that, just as 
acute anoxemia simulates drunkenness, chronic anoxemia simulates 

The following slide shows you a photograph taken from a page in 
my note-book written at the Alta Vista Hut, at an altitude of 12,000 
feet. You will see that the page commences with a scrawl which is 
crossed out, then ‘6 Sept.,’ the word ‘ Sept.’ is crossed out and 
‘March ’ is inserted, ‘March’ shares the same fate as ‘ Sept.,’ and 
“ April,’ the correct month, is substituted, and so on, more crossings 
out and corrections. All this you might say with justice is the action 
of a tired man. The other pages written at lower altitudes do not, 
however, bear out the idea that I was out of health at the time, and 
there was no reason for tiredness on that particular day. . Another 
symptom frequently associated with mental fatigue is irritability. 
Anyone who has experience of high altitudes knows to his cost that life 
does not run smoothly at 10,000 feet. If the trouble is not with one’s 
own temper, it is with those of one’s colleagues: and so it was in many 
cases of gas-poisoning and in the case of aviators. In these subjects 
the apparent fatigue sometimes passed into a definitely neurasthenic 
condition. At this point an issue appeared to arise between the 
partisans of two theories. One camp said that the symptoms. were 
definitely those of anoxeemia, the other that they were due to nerve 
strain. As I have indicated later on, it is not clear that these tw6 
views are mutually exclusive. It takes two substances to make an 
oxidation, the oxygen and the oxidised material. If the oxidation does 
not take place, the cause may lie in the absence of either or of both, in 
each case with a similar effect. The subject really is not ripe for 
controversy, but it is amply ripe for research, research in which both 
the degree of anoxemia and the symptoms of fatigue are clearly 

So much, then, for the injury to the machine wrought by chronic 



Types of Anoxemia. 

And now to pass to the consideration of the various types of 

Anozemia is by derivation want of oxygen in the blood. 

Suppose you allow your mind to pass to some much more homely 
substance than oxygen—such, for instance, as milk—and consider the 
causes which may conspire to deprive your family of milk, three 
obvious sources of milk deficiency will occur to you at once: 

(1) There is not enough milk at the dairy; 

(2) The milk is watered or otherwise adulterated so that the fluid 
on sale is not really all milk; and 

(3) The milkman from that particular dairy does not come down your 

These three sources of milk deficiency are typical of the types of 
oxygen deficiency. 

The first is insufficient oxygen dispensed to the blood by the lungs. 
An example of this type of anoxeemia is mountain-sickness. The 
characteristic of it is insufficient pressure of oxygen in the blood. In 
mountain-sickness the insufficiency of pressure in the blood is due to 
insufficient pressure in the air, for, according to our view at all events, 
the pressure in the blood will always be less than that in air. But 
this type of anoxemia may be due to other causes. The sufferer may 
be in a normal atmosphere, yet for one reason or another the air may 
not have access to his whole lung. In such cases, either caused by 
obstruction, by shallow respiration, or by the presence of fluid in the 
alveoli, the blood leaving the affected areas will contain considerable 
quantities of reduced hemoglobin. This will mix with blood from un- 
affected areas which is about 95 per cent. saturated. The oxygen will 
then be shared round equally among the corpuscles of the mixed blood, 
and if the resultant is only 85-90 per cent. saturated the pressure of 
oxygen will only be about half the normal, and, as I said, deficiency of 
oxygen pressure is the characteristic of this type of anoxemia. 

The second type involves no want of oxygen pressure in the arterial 
blood ; it is comparable to the watered milk: the deficiency is really in 
the quality of the blood and not in the quantity of oxygen to which the 
blood has access. The most obvious example is anemia, in which 
from one cause or other the blood contains too low a percentage of 
hemoglobin, and because there is too little hemoglobin to carry the 
oxygen too little oxygen is carried. Anemia is, however, only one 
example which might be given of this type of anoxeemia. There may 
be sufficient hemoglobin in the blood, but the hemoglobin may be 
useless for the purpose of oxygen transport; it may be turned in part 
into methemoglobin, as in several diseases, e.g. among workers in the 
manufacture of some chemicals, and in some forms of dysentery con- 
tracted in tropical climates, or it may be monopolised by carbon 
monoxide, as in mine-air. 

Thirdly, the blood may have access to sufficient oxygen and may 
contain sufficient functional hemoglobin, but owing to transport trouble 
it may not be circulated in sufficient quantities to the tissues. The 
quantity of oxygen which reaches the tissue in unit time is too small. 

Literally, according to the strict derivation of the word ‘ anoxeemia,’ 
the third type should perhaps be excluded from the category of con- 
ditions covered by that word, but, as the result is oxygen starvation 
in the tissues, it will be convenient to include it. Indeed, it would be 
an act. of pedantry not to do so, for no form of anoxemia has any 
significance apart from the fact that it prevents the tissues from obtain- 
ing the supply of oxygen requisite for their metabolic processes. 

The obvious types of anoxeemia may therefore be classified in some 
such scheme as the following, and, as it is difficult to continue the dis- 
cussion of them without some sort of nomenclature, I am giving a name 

to each type: 


1. Anowic Type. 

The pressure of oxygen 
in the blood is too low. 
The hemoglobin is not 
saturated to the normal 
The blood is dark. 
“Examples : 
1. Rare atmospheres. 
2. Areas of lung par- 
tially unventilated. 
3. Fluid or fibrin on 
surface of cells. 

2. Anemic Type. 

The quantity of functional 
hemoglobin is _ too 

The oxygen pressure is 

The blood is normal in 

1. Too little 

2. CO hemoglobin. 

3. Methemoglobin. 


3. Stagnant Type. 

The blood is normal, but 
is supplied to the 
tissues in. insufficient 

1. Secondary result of 
histamine shock. 
2. Hemorrhage. 
3. Back pressure: 

Anoxic anoxemia is essentially a general as opposed to a local con- 
dition. Not only is the pressure of oxygen in the blood too low, but 
the lowness of the pressure and not the deficiency in the quantity is 
the cause of the symptoms observed. 

Proof of the above statement is to be found in the researches of most 
workers who have carried out investigations at low oxygen pressures, 
and it can now be brought forward in a much more convincing way than 
formerly that oxygen secretion is, for the time at all events, not a 
factor to be counted with. 

The workers on Pike’s Peak, for instance, emphasised the fact that 
the increase of red blood corpuscles during their residence at 14,000 feet 
was due to deficient oxygen pressure. No doubt they were right, but 
the point was rather taken from their argument by their assertion in 
another part of the paper that the oxygen pressure in their arterial blood 
was anything up to about 100 mm. of mercury. Let me therefore 
take my own case, in which the alveolar pressures are known to be an 
index of the oxygen pressures in the arterial blood. I will compare my 
ccndition on two occasions, the point. being that on these two occasions 
the quantities of oxygen united with the hemoglobin were as nearly as 
may be the same, whilst the pressures were widely different. 

As I sit here the hemoglobin value of my blood is 96-97, which 
corresponds to an oxygen capacity of ‘178 c.c. of O, per c.c. of blood. 
In the oxygen chamber on the last day of my experiment, to which I 
refer later,® the oxygen capacity of my blood was ‘201 c.c. Assuming 
the blood to be 95 per cent. saturated now and 84 per cent. saturated 


then, the actual quantity of oxygen in the blood on the two occasions 
would be: 

Oxygen Capacity. Percentage Saturation. Oxygen Content. 
“178 95 "169 
201 84 “169 

Here, I am in my usual health. In the chamber, I vomited; my 
pulse was 86—it is now 56; my head ached in a most distressing fashion, 
it was with the utmost difficulty that I could carry out routine gas 
analyses, and when doing so the only objects which I saw distinctly 
were those on which my attention was concentrated. 

In the anoxic type of anoxeemia there may then be quite a sufficient 
quantity of oxygen in the blood, but a sufficient quantity does not avail 
in the face of am insufficient pressure. Indeed, as I shall show 
presently, the anoxic type of anoxemia is the most serious. We are 
therefore confronted with something of a paradox in that the mosi 
severe type of anoxemia is one in which there is not necessarily an 
insufficient quantity of oxygen in the blood at all. 

And here let me justify fhe statement that the anoxic type is the 
most to be feared. I can justify it on either or both of two grounds. 
Firstly, of the three types it places the tissues at the greatest disadvan- 
tage as regards oxygen supply, and secondly, it is of the three the least 
easy type for the organism to circumvent. 

Let me dwell for a moment upon the efficiency of the blood as a 
medium for the supply of oxygen to the tissue in the three types. The 
goal of respiration is to produce and maintain as high an oxygen pres- 
sure in the tissue fluids as possible. For the velocity of any particular 
oxidation in the tissues must depend upon the products of the concen- 
trations (active masses) of the material to be oxidised and of the oxygen. 
Now the concentration of oxygen in the tissue is proportional to its 
partial pressure, and the highest partial pressure in the tissue must, 
other things being equal, be the result of that type of anoxeemia in 
which there is the highest partial pressure in the blood plasma. 

It is interesting and not uninstructive to try to calculate the degree 
to which the tissues are prejudiced by being subjected to various types 
of anoxeemia. Let us suppose that we have a piece of tissue, muscle for 
instance, which normally is under the following conditions : 

(a) One cubic centimetre of blood per minute runs through it. 
(b) The total oxygen capacity of this blood is 188 c.c. of oxygen 
per c.c. of blood. 

(c) The percentage saturation is 97. 

(d) The oxygen pressure is 100 mm. 

(e) The oxygen used is 059 c.c. 

(f) The oxygen pressure in the tissues is half of that in the veins, 
in this case 19 mm. 

Compare with this a severe case of anoxic anoxemia, one in which 
the blood-flow is the same as above, and also the oxygen capacity value 
of the blood, but in which the oxygen pressure is only 31 mm. and the 
percentage saturation of the arterial blood 66 per cent. Let us further 

retain the assumption that the oxygen pressure in the tissues is half 
1920 , M 


that in the veins. It is possible to calculate, as indeed has been done 
by my colleague, Mr. Roughton, what the amount of oxygen leaving 
the capillaries is. The answer is not ‘059, as in the case of the normal, 
but ‘026—less than half the normal. So, other things being equal, 
cutting down the oxygen pressure in the arterial blood to 31 and the 
percentage saturation to 66 would deprive the tissues of half. their 
oxygen. With this compare an example of the anemic type. The 
arterial blood shall have the same total quantity of oxygen as in the 
anoxic case, but instead of being 66 per cent. saturated it shall contain 
66 per cent. of the total hemoglobin, which shall be normally saturated. 
The amount of oxygen which would pass to the tissues under these 
conditions is ‘041 c.c.—more than half as much again as from the 
anoxic blood laden with the same quantity of oxygen. 

And thirdly, let us take for comparison a case of stagnant anoxeemia 
in which the same quantity of oxygen goes to the tissue in the cubic 
centimetre of blood as in the anoxic and anemic types. On the assump- 
tion which we have made the quantity ie oxygen which would leave 
the blood would be °045 c¢.c. 

In round numbers therefore the ot to the tissues may be 
expressed by the following comparison. In this case both of the 
oxygen going to the blood and going into the tissues I have called the 
normal 100. This does not, of course, mean that the two amounts are 
the same: The former in absolute units is about three times the latter. 
The figure 100 at the top of each column is merely a standard with 
which to compare the figures beneath it. 

Oxygen in blood going Oxygen leaving the blood 
to vessels of tissue. to supply the tissues. 
Per cent, Per cent. 
Normal 5 - 5 ; 100 100 
Anoxic . : 66 42 
Anoxamin | Anemic . ¢ 66 66 
Stagnant . F 66 75 

Measurement of Anoxemia. 

In the study of all physical processes there comes a point, and that 
very early, when it becomes necessary to compare them one with 
another, to establish some sort of numerical standard and have some 
sort of quantitative measurements. The study of anoxemia has reached 
that point. By what scale are we to measure oxygen want? 

Let us take the anoxic type first. There are two scales which 
might be applied to it, both concern the arterial blood; the one is the 
oxygen pressure in it, the other is the actual percentage of the hemo- 
globin which is oxyhemoglobin. A third possibility suggests itself, 
namely, the actual amount of oxygen present, but this would be in- 
fluenced as much by the anemic as by the anoxic conditions. Of the 
two possibilities—that of measuring the pressure, and that of measuring 
the saturation of the blood with oxygen—the latter is the one which is 
likely to come into vogue, because it is susceptible of direct measurement. 

Two conyerging lines of work have within the last few years brought 
us nearer to being able to state the degree of anoxeemia in man in terms 
of the percentage saturation of oxygen in his blood. The first,. intro- 


duced by the American researcher Stadie,* is the method of arterial 
puncture. It had long been the wish of physiologists to make direct 
examinations of the gases in human arterial blood, yet, as far as I know, 
this had only once been accomplished, namely, ‘by Dr. Arthur Cooke 
and myself in a case in which the radial artery was opened for the pur- 
pose of transfusion. But the matter now seems to be relatively 
simple. The needle of a hypodermic syringe can be put right into the 
radial artery and arterial blood withdrawn. I am not sure that the 
operation is less painful than that of dissecting out the radial artery 
and opeuing it—and in this matter I speak with experience—but it is 
less alarming, and it has the great merit that it does not injure the 

Another method of determining the percentage saturation of arterial 
Blood has invited the attention of researchers, appearing like a will- 
o’-the-wisp, at one time within grasp, at another far off. That method 
is to deduce the percentage saturation from the composition of the 
alveolar air. Into the merits of the rival methods for the determina- 
tion of the oxygen in alveolar air I will not go: the method of Haldane 
and Priestley will suffice for persons at rest. Granted, then, that a 
subject has a partial pressure of 50 mm. of oxygen in his alveolar air, 
what can we infer as regards his arterial blood? A long controversy has 
raged about whether or no any assumption could be made about the 
condition of the arterial blood from that of the alveolar air, for it was 
an article of faith with the school of physiologists which was led by 
Haldane that when the oxygen pressure in the alveolar air sank, the 
oxygen in the arterial blood did not suffer a corresponding reduction. 
The experimental evidence at present points in the opposite direction, 
and unless some further facts are brought to light it may be assumed 
that the oxygen pressure in the arterial blood of a normal person at 
rest is some five millimetres below that in his alveolar air. And having 
obtained a figure for the pressure of oxygen in the arterial blood, where 
do we stand as regards the percentage of saturation? The relation 
between the one and the other is known as the oxygen dissociation 
curve. It differs but slightly in normal individuals, and at different 
times in the same individual. To infer the percentage saturation from 
the oxygen pressure, no doubt the actual dissociation curve should be 
determined, but in practice it is doubtful whether as a first approxi- 
mation this is necessary, for a curve determined as the result of a few 
observations is unlikely to be much nearer the mark than a standard 
curve on which twenty or thirty points have been determined. 
Therefore an approximation can be made for the percentage saturation 
as follows: In a normal individual take the oxygen in the alveolar air, 
subtract five millimetres, and lay the result off on the mean dissociation 
curve for man. 

Whether measured directly or juarentae the answer is a statement 
of the relative quantities of oxyhemoglobin and. of reduced hemoglobin 
in the arterial blood. The important thing is that there should be as 
little reduced hemoglobin as possible. The more reduced hemoglobin 
there is present the less saturated is the blood, or, as the American 
authors say, the more unsaturated is the blood. | They emphasise 



the fact that it is the quantity of reduced hemoglobin that is the index 
of the anoxic condition. They speak not of the percentage saturation, 
but of the percentage of unsaturation. A blood which would ordinarily 
be called 85 per cent. saturated they speak of as 15 per cent. unsaturated. 

Anoxic anoxemia, in many cases of lung affection, should be 
measured by the direct method of arterial puncture, for the simple 
reason that the relation between the alveolar air and the arterial blood 
is quite unknown. Such, for instance, are cases of many lung lesions 
of pneumonia in which the lung may be functioning only in parts, of 
pneumothorax, of pleural effusions, of emphysema, of multiple pul- 
monary embolism, in phases of which the arterial blood has been found 
experimentally to be unsaturated. In addition to these definite lung 
lesions, there is another type of case on which great stress has been 
laid by Haldane, Meakins, and Priestley, namely, cases of shallow 
respiration.? A thorough investigation of the arterial blood in such 
cases is urgently necessary. Indeed, in all cases in which it is prac- 
ticable, the method of arterial puncture is desirable. But in the cases 
of many normal persons—as, for instance, those airmen at different 
altitudes—alveolar-air determinations would give a useful index. 

The anemic type of anoxemia is gauged by the quantity of oxy- 
hemoglobin in the blood. In the case of simple anemias this is 
measured by the scale in which the normal man counts as 100 and the 
hemoglobin in the anemic individual is expressed as a percentage of 
this. This method has been standardised carefully by Haldane, and we 
now know that the man who shows 100 on the scale has an oxygen 
capacity of 185 c.c. of oxygen for every c.c. of blood. We can therefore, 
in cases of carboxyhemoglobin, or methemoglobin poisoning, express 
the absolute amount of oxyhemoglobin pressure either by stating the 
oxygen capacity and so getting an absolute measurement, or in relative 
units by dividing one hundred times the oxygen capacity by °185, and 
thus getting a figure on the ordinary hemoglobin metre scale. 

The Mechanism of Anoremia. 

Perhaps the most difficult phase of the discussion is that of how 
anoxeemia produces its baneful results. In approaching this part of 
the subject I should like to warn my readers of one general principle 
the neglect of which seems to be responsible for a vast dissipation of 
energy. Before you discuss whether a certain effect is due to cause A or 
cause B, be clear in your own mind that A and B are mutually exclusive. 

Let me take an example and suppose 

(1) That the energy of muscular contraction in the long run 
depends in some way on the oxidation of sugar ; 

(2) That in the absence of an adequate supply of oxygen the 

C.H,,0, +.6 0,=6 CO,+ 6 H,0 

cannot take place in its entirety ; 
(3) That under such circumstances some lactic acid is formed as 
well as carbonic acid; 


—_- - 

I.— PH YSIOLOG Ys 165 

(4) ‘That the hydrogen ion concentration of the blood rises and 
the total ventilation increases. On what lines are you to 
discuss whether the increased ventilation is due to 
‘ acidosis,’ by which is meant in this connection the increased 
hydrogen ion concentration of the blood, or to ‘ anoxzemia ’? 
Clearly not on the lines that it must be due to one or other. 

In the above instance anoxemia and acidosis are to some extent 
dependant variables. I have chosen the above case because measure- 
ments have been made throughout which make the various assump- 
tions fairly certain, and tell us pretty clearly in what sort of chain 
to string up the events, what is cause and what is effect. Clearly 
it would be ridiculous to start a discussion as to whether the breath- 
lessness was due to ‘ acidosis’ or ‘ anoxemia.’ Hach has its place 
in the chain of events. But I have heard discussions of whether other 
phenomena of a more obscure nature were due to oxygen want or to 
acidosis. Such discussions tend to no useful end. 

Nor is this the only problem with regard to oxygen want concerning 
which my warning is needed. Oxygen want may act immediately in 
at least two ways: 

(1) In virtue of absence of oxygen some oxidation which otherwise 
might take place does not do so, and therefore something 
which might otherwise happen may not happen. For 
instance, it may be conceived that the respiratory centre can 
only go through the rhythmic changes of its activity as the 
result of the oxidation of its own substance. 

(2) A deficient supply of oxygen may produce, not the negation 
of a chemical action, but an altered chemical action which 
in its turn produces toxic products that have a secondary 
effect. on such an organism as the respiratory centre. 

Now these effects are not mutually exclusive. In the same category 
are many arguments about whether accumulations of carbonic acid 
act specifically as such or merely produce an effect in virtue of their 
effect on the hydrogen ion concentration.. Here again the two points 
of view are not, strictly speaking, alternatives, and, in some cases at 
all events, both actions seem to go on at the same time. 

It will be evident that in any balanced action in which CO, is 
produced its accumulation will tend to slow the reaction; but, on the 
other hand, the same accumulation may very likely raise the hydrogen 
ion concentration, and in that way produce an effect. 

The relation of oxygen to hemoglobin seems to furnish a case in 
point. Carbonic acid is known to reduce the affinity of haemoglobin 
for oxygen, and other acids do the same. On analogy, therefore, it 
might have, and has, been plausibly argued that CO: acts in virtue of the 
change in reaction which it produces. Put into mathematical language, 
the relation of the percentage saturation of oxygen to the oxygen 
pressure of the gas dissolved in the hemoglobin solution is expressed 
by the equation 

A ORS 0) )) sO hen COL 
100~ 1 + Ka" DL paw? WOT 4 SR’ 



where y is the percentage saturation and a the oxygen pressure. ‘The 
value of K is the measure of the affinity of oxygen for hemoglobin: 
the less the value of K the less readily do the two substances unite. 

Now a has been shown by Laurence J. Henderson,* and indepen- 

dently by Adair, to vary directly with the concentration of CO,. The 
value of this constant is, according to Henderson, too great to be a 
direct effect of the CO, on the hemoglobin, and involves as well the 
assumption that the hemoglobin in blood is in four forms—an acid 
and a salt of reduced hemoglobin and an acid and a salt of 
oxyhemoglobin. The presence of CO, alters the balance of these four 

- It is rather fashionable at present to say that ‘the whole question 
of acidosis and anoxeemia is in a hopeless muddle.’ To this I answer 
that, if it is in a muddle, I believe the reason to be largely because 
schools of thought have rallied round words and have taken sides under 
the impression that they have no common ground. The ‘ muddle,’ 
in so far as it exists, is not, I think, by any means hopeless; but I 
grant freely enough that we are rather at the commencement than at 
the end of the subject, that much thought and much research must 
be given, firstly, in getting accurate data, and, secondly, on relating 
cause and effect, before the whole subject will seem simple. No effort 
should be spared to replace indirect by direct measurements. My own 
inference with regard to changes of the reaction of the blood, based 
on interpretations of the dissociation curve, should be checked by actual 
hydrogen ion measurements, as has been done by Hasselbach and is 
being done by Donegan and Parsons.* Meakins also is, [ think, 
doing great work by actually testing the assumptions made by Haldane 
and himself as regards the oxygen in arterial blood. 

The Compensations for Anoxemia. 

For the anoxic type of anoxemia two forms of compensation at 
once suggest themselves. ‘The one is increased hemoglobin in the 
blood; the other is increased blood-flow through the tissues. Let us, 
along the lines of the calculations already made, endeavour to ascertain 
how far these two types of compensation will really help. To go back 
to the extreme anoxic case already cited, in which the hemoglobin 
was 66 per cent. saturated, let us, firstly, see what can be accomplished 
by an increase of the hemoglobin value of the blood. ‘Such an increase 
takes place, of course, at high altitudes. Let us suppose that the 
increase is on the same grand scale as the anoxeemia, and that it is 
sufficient to restore the actual quantity of oxygen in one c.c. of blood 
to the normal. This, of course, means a rise in the hemoglobin value 
of the blood from 100 to 150 on the Gowers’ scale. Yet even so great 
an increase in the hemoglobin will only increase the oxygen taken 
up in the capillary from each c.c. of blood from ‘031 to ‘036 c.c., and 
will therefore leave it far short of the ‘06 c.c. which every cubic centi- 
metre of normal blood was giving to the tissue. So much, then, for 
increased hemoglobin. It gives a little, but only a little, respite. Let 
us turn, therefore, to increased blood-flow. 


In the stagnant type of anoxemia the principal change which is 
seen to take place is an increase in the quantity of hemoglobin per 
eubic millimetre of blood. 

This increase is secondary to a loss of water in the tissues, the 
result in some cases, as appears from the work of Dale, Richards, and 
Laidlaw,’ of a formation of histamine in the tissues. Whether this 
increase of hemoglobin is to be regarded as merely an accidental occur- 
rence or as a compensation is difficult to decide at present. Roughton’s 
calculations rather surprised us by indicating that increased hemoglobin 
acted less efliciently as a compensatory mechanism than we had 
expected. This conclusion may have been due to the inaccuracy of 
our assumptions. I must therefore remind you that much experimental 
evidence is required before the assumptions which are made above are 
anything but assumptions. But, so far as the evidence available at the 
present time can teach any lesson, that lesson is this: The only way 
of dealing satisfactorily with the anoxic type of anoxeemia is to abolish 
it by in some way supplying the blood with oxygen at a pressure suffi- 
cient to saturate it to the normal level. 

Tt has been maintained strenuously by the Oxford school of physio- 
logists that Nature actually did this; that when the partial pressure in 
the air-cells of the lung was low the cellular covering of that organ 
could clutch at the oxygen and force it into the blood at an unnatural 
pressure, creating a sort of forced draught. This theory, as a theory, 
has much to recommend it. Iam sorry to say, however, that I cannot 
agree with it on the present evidence. I will only make a passing 
allusion to the experiment which I performed in order to test the theory, 
living for six days in a glass respiration-chamber in which the partial 
pressure of oxygen was gradually reduced until it was at its lowest— 
about 45 mm. Such a pressure, if the lung was incapable of creating 
what I have termed a forced draught, would mean an oxygen pressure 
of 38-40 mm. of mercury in the blood, a change sufficient to make 
the arterial blood quite dark in colour, whereas, did any considerable 
forced draught exist, the blood in the arteries would be quite bright in 
colour. Could we but see the blood in the arteries, its appearance alone 
would almost give the answer as to whether or no oxygen was forced, 
or, in technical language, secreted, through the lung wall. And, of 
course, we could see the blood in the arteries by the simple process of 
cutting one of them open and shedding a little into a closed glass tube. 
To the surgeon this is not a difficult matter, and it was, of course, done. 
The event showed that the blood was dark, and the most careful analyses 
failed to discover any evidence that the body can force oxygen into 
the blood in order to compensate for a deficiency of that gas in the air. 

Yet the body is not quite powerless. It can, by breathing more 
deeply, by increasing the ventilation of the lungs, bring the pressure 
of oxygen in the air-cells closer to that in the atmosphere breathed 
than would otherwise be the case. I said just now that the oxygen 
in my lungs dropped to a minimal pressure of 45 mm. ; but it did not 
remain at that level. When I bestirred myself a little it rose, as the 
result of increased ventilation of the lung, to 56 mm., and at one time, 
when I was breathing through valves, it reached 68 mm. Nature will 


do something, bul what Nature does not do should be done by artifice. 
Exploration of the condition of the arterial blood is only in its infancy, 
yet many cases have been recorded in which in illness the arterial blood 
has lacked oxygen as much as or more than my own did in the respira- 
tion chamber when I was lying on the last day, with occasional vomit- 
ing, racked with headache, and at times able to see clearly only as an 
effort of concentration. A sick man, if his blood is as anoxic as mine 
was, cannot be expected to fare better as the result, and so he may 
be expected to have all my troubles in addition to the graver ones 
which are, perhaps, attributable to some toxic cause. Can he be spared 
the anoxemia? The result of our calculations, so far, points to the fact 
that the efficient way of combating the anoxic condition is to give 
oxygen. During the war it was given with success in the field in cases 
of gas-poisoning, and also special wards were formed on a small scale 
in this country in which the level of oxygen in the atmosphere was 
kept up to about 40 per cent., with great benefit to a large percentage 
ot the cases. The practice then inaugurated is being tested at Guy’s 
Hospital by Dr. Hunt, who administered the treatment during the war. 

Nor are the advantages of oxygen respiration confined to patho- 
logical cases. One of the most direct victims of anoxic anoxemia is 
the airman who flies at great heights. Everything in this paper tends 
to show that to counteract the loss of oxygen which he sustains at high 
altitudes there is but one policy, namely, to provide him with an 
oxygen equipment which is at once as light and as efficient as possible— 
a consummation for which Haldane has striven unremittingly. And 
here I come to the personal note on which I should like to conclude. 
In the pages which I have read views have been expressed which differ 
from those which he holds in matters of detail—perhaps in matters 
of important detail. But Haldane’s teaching transcends mere detail. 
He has always taught that the physiology of to-day is the medicine 
of to-morrow. The more gladly, therefore, do I take this opportunity 
of saying how much I owe, and how much [ think medicine owes 
and will owe, to the inspiration of Haldane’s teaching. 

1. HaAupane. 
2. Hatpanz, Kenuas, and Kennaway. Journal of Physiology, liii. 
3. Foster and Haupanr. .The Investigation of Mine Air. Griffin & Co. 

4. Krocu and Linpuarp, quoted by Bainbridge. 

5. Barcrort, Cooke, Harrripce, Parsons and Parsons. Journal of 
Physiology, liii. p. 451, 1920. 

6. Stapre. Journal of Experimental Medicine, xxx. p. 215. 1919. 

7. Hanpanr, Meakins, and Prirsrury. Journal of Physiology, lii. p. 420. 

8. L. J, Henperson. The Journal of Biological Chemistry, vol. xli, p. 401. 
9. Dongcan and Parsons. Journal of Physiology, lii. p. 315. 1919. 
10. Dave and Rrcuarps. Journal of Physiology, lii. p. 110. 1919. Daze 
and Larptaw. Ibid. p. 355. 





Miss E. R. SAUNDERS, F.L.S., 


Year by year we see the meetings of the Association recur, pursuing a 
course which neither geographer nor astronomer would venture to 
predict and leaving traced out behind them a figure unknown to the 
mathematician. Nevertheless the path of its journeyings is ever return- 
ing upon itself. As this recurrence is brought afresh to one’s mind, 
there is a natural impulse to reflect upon the progress which has 
been made in the intervening period in the science which one here finds 
oneself called upon to represent. Not quite thirty years have elapsed 
since the last occasion on which the Association was welcomed to 
Cardiff. Curiosity to learn whether the matter of the discourse 
delivered by my predecessor on that occasion had a connection, close 
or remote, with the particular subject with which I proposed to deal 
in this Address led me to refer to the Annual Report of the Association 
for 1891. I thus became aware how recent was the occurrence of the 
mutation—or should I rather say of the dichotomy ?—which led to the 
appearance of a Botanical Section, for twenty-nine years ago Section K 
had not yet come into existence. At that period the problems relating 
to living organisms, whether concerned with plant or animal, whether 
of a morphological or physiological nature, were all embraced within 
the wide field of Section D, the Section of Biology. Though in succeeding 
years discovery at an ever-increasing rate and in many new fields 
of investigation has made inevitable the separation first of Physiology, 
and then of Botany from their common parent, we may with advantage 
follow the precedent set by the Association as a whole, and, as a Section, 
return from time to time upon our course of evolution. I shall there- 
fore invite your attention to a subject which lies within the wide province 
of Biology and makes its appeal alike to the botanist, zoologist and 
physiologist—the subject of Heredity. 

By the term Inheritance we are accustomed to signify the obvious 

fact of the resemblance displayed by all living organisms between 

offspring and parents, as the direct outcome of the contributions received 
from the two sides of the pedigree at fertilisation: to indicate, in fact, 


owing to lack of knowledge of the workings of the hereditary process, 
merely the visible consequence—the final result of a chain of events. 
Now, however, that we have made a beginning in our analysis of the 
stages which culminate in the appearance of any character, a certain 
looseness becomes apparent in our ordinary use of the word Heredity, 
covering as it does the two concomitant essentials, genetic potentiality 
and somatic expression—a looseness which may lead us into the para- 
doxical statement that inheritance is wanting in a case in which never- 
theless the evidence shows that the genetic constitution of the children 
is precisely like that of the parents. When we say that a character is 
inherited no ambiguity is involved, because the appearance of the 
character entails the inheritance of the genetic potentiality. But when 
a character is stated not to be inherited it is not thereby indicated whether 
this result is due to environmental conditions, to genetic constitution, 
or to both causes combined. That we are now able in some measure 
to analyse the genetic potentialities of the individual is due to one of 
those far-reaching discoveries which change our whole outlook, and 
bring immediately in their train a rapidly increasing array of new facts, 
falling at once into line with our new conceptions, or by some orderly 
and constant discrepancy pointing a fresh direction for attack. An 
historical survey of the steps by which we have advanced to the present 
state of our knowledge of Heredity has so frequently been given during 
the last twenty years that the briefest reference to this part of my 
subject will suffice. 

The earliest attempts to frame some general law which would co- 
ordinate and explain the observed facts of inheritance were those of 
Galton and Pearson. Galton’s observations led him to formulate two 
principles which he believed to be capable of general application—the 
Law of Ancestral Heredity and the Law of Regression. The Law of 
Ancestral Heredity was intended to furnish a general expression for the 
sum of the heritage handed on in any generation to the succeeding off- 
spring. Superposed upon the working of this law were the effects of 
the Law of Regression, in which the average deviation from the mean 
of a whole population of any.fraternal group within that population 
was expressed in terms of the average deviation of the parents. These 
expressions represent statements of averages which, in so far as they 
apply, hold only when large numbers are totalled together. They afford 
no means of certain prediction in the individual case. These and all 
similar statistical statements of the effects of inheritance take no account 
of the essentially physiological nature of this as of all other processes 
in the living organism. They leave us unenlightened on the funda- 
mental question of the nature of the means by which the results we 
witness came to pass. We obtain from them, as from the melting-pot, 
various new products whose properties are of interest from other view- 
points, but, corresponding to no biological reality, they have failed to 
bring us nearer to our goal—a fuller comprehension of the workings 
of the hereditary mechanism. Progress in this direction has resulted 
from the opposite method of inquiry—the study of a single character 
in a single line of descent, the method which deals with the unit im 
place of the mass. The revelation came with the opening of the present 

* Fs 

K.—BOTANY. 171 

century, for in 1900 was announced the rediscovery of Mendel’s work, 
actually given to the world thirty-five years earlier, but at the time 
leaving no impress upon scientific thought. The story of the Austrian 
monk and the details of his experiments carried out in the monastery 
garden upon races of the edible pea are now familiar history, and | 
need not recount them here. Having formed the idea that in order 

_ to arrive at a clearer understanding of the relation of organisms to 

their progeny the problem must be studied in its simplest form, Mendel 
came to see that a scheme of analysis must deal not with mass popula- 

tions but with a smaller unit—the family, and that each character of 
_ the individual must be separately investigated. 

Selecting for his experiments races which showed themselves to be 

 pure-breeding and mating together those exhibiting characters of such 
- opposite nature as to constitute a pair—e.g., tall with short, yellow- 

seeded with green-seeded—he obtained results which could be accounted 
for if it were supposed that these opposite, or as we should now term 
them allelomorphic, characters were distributed unaltered and in equal 
proportion to the reproductive cells of the cross-bred organism. It is 
this conception of the pure nature of the germ-cells, irrespective of 
whether the organism forming them be of pure-bred or cross-bred 
descent, which revolutionised our conceptions of Heredity and laid the 
foundations upon which we build to-day. For the intervening years 
have seen the instances in which the Mendelian theory is found to 
hold mount steadily from day to day, furnishing a weight of evidence 
in its support which is incontrovertible. 

It chanced that in each pair of characters selected by Mendel for 
experiment the opposites are related to each other in the following 

simple manner: An individual which had received both allelomorphs, 

one from either parent, exhibited one of the two characteristics, hence 
called the dominant, to the exclusion of the other. Among the offspring 
of such an individual both characteristics appeared, the dominant in 
some, its opposite, the recessive, in others, in the proportion approxi- 
mately of three to one. This is the result which might be expected 

from random pairing in fertilisation of two opposites, where the mani- 

festation in the zygote of the one completely masks the presence of the 
other. As workers along Mendelian lines increased and the field of 
inquiry widened, it soon, however, became apparent that the dominant- 
recessive relationship is not of universal occurrence. It likewise 

became clear that the simple ratios which obtained in Mendel’s experi- 

ments are not characteristic of every case. Mendel’s own results were 
all, as it happened, explicable on the supposition that the two alterna- 
tive forms of each character were dependent on a single element or 
factor. By a fortunate accident none of the complex factorial inter- 
‘relations which have since been brought to light in other cases obscured 
the expression in its simplest form of the results of germ purity. It 
is our task, in the light of this guiding principle, to attempt to elucidate 
these more complicated types of inheritance. 
We now know, for example, that many characters are not con- 
trolled by one single factor, but by two or more. One of the most 
familiar instances of the two-factor character is the appearance of the 


colouring matter anthocyanin in the petals of plants such as the Stock 
and Sweet Pea. Our proof that two factors (at least) are here involved 
is obtained when we find that two true breeding forms devoid of colour 
yield coloured offspring when mated together. In this case the two 
complementary factors are carried, one by each of the two crossed 
forms. When both factors meet in the one individual, colour is 
developed. We have in such cases the solution of the familiar, but 
previously unexplained, phenomenon of Reversion. Confirmatory evi- 
dence is afforded when among the offspring of such cross-bred indi- 
viduals we find the simple 3 to 1 ratio of the one-factor difference 
replaced by a ratio of 9 to 7. Similarly we deduce from a ratio of 
27 to 37 that three factors are concerned, from a ratio of 81 to 175 
four factors, and so on. The occurrence of these higher ratios proves 
that the hereditary process follows the same course whatever the 
number of factors controlling the character in question. 

And here I may pause to dwell for a moment upon a point of which 
it is well that we should remind ourselves from time to time, since, 
though tacitly recognised, it finds no explicit expression jn our ordinary 
representation of genetic relations. The method of factorial analysis 
based on the results of inter-breeding enables us to ascertain the least 
possible number of genetic factors concerned in controlling a particular 
somatic character, but what the total of such factors actually is we 
cannot tell, since our only criterion is the number by which the forms 
we employ are found to differ. How many may be common to these 
forms remains unknown. In illustration I may take the case of sur- — 
face character in the genera Lychnis and Matthiola. In L. vespertina 
the type form is hairy; in the variety glabra, recessive to the type, 
hairs are entirely lacking. Here all glabrous individuals have so far 
proved to be similar in constitution, and when bred with the type give a 
3 to 1 ratio in F,.1| We speak of hairiness in this case, therefore, as — 
being a one-factor character. In the case of Matthiola incana v. | 
glabra, of which many strains are in cultivation, it so happened that — 
the commercial material originally employed in these investigations 
contained all the factors since identified as present in the type and — 
essential to the manifestation of hairiness except one. Hence it 
appeared at first that here also hairiness must be controlled, as in 
Lychnis, by a single factor. But further experiment revealed the fact 
that though the total number of factors contained in these glabrous 
forms was the same, the respective factorial combinations were not 
identical. By inter-breeding these and other strains obtained later, 
hairy F, cross-breds were produced giving ratios in F, which proved 
that at least four distinct factors are concerned.2 Whereas, then, the 
glabrous appearance in Lychnis always indicates the loss (if for con- 
venience we may so represent the nature of the recessive condition) 
of one and the same factor, analysis in the Stock shows that the 
glabrous condition results if any factor out of a group of four is repre- 
sented by its recessive allelomorph. Hence we describe hairiness in 
the latter case as a four-factor character. 

Pe a 

eer ee eS ee 

1 Report to the Evolution Committee, Royal Society, i., 1902. 
2 Proc. Roy. Soc. B, vol. 85, 1912. 

K.—BOTANY. 173 

It will be apparent from the cases cited that we cannot infer from 
the genetic analysis of one type that the factorial relations involved 
are the same for the corresponding character in another. That this 
should be so in wholly unrelated plants is not perhaps surprising, but 
we find it to be true also where the nature of the characteristic and 
the relationship of the types might have led us to expect uniformity. 
This is well seen in the case of a morphological feature distinctive of 
the N.O. Graminez. ‘The leaf is normally ligulate, but individuals are 
occasionally met with in which the ligule is wanting. In these plants, 
as a consequence, the leaf blade stands nearly erect instead of spread- 
ing out horizontally. Nilsson-Ehle* discovered that in Oats there are 
at least four and possibly five distinct factors determining ligule forma- 
tion, all with equal potentialities in this direction. Hence, only when 
the complete series is lacking is the ligule wanting. In mixed families 
the proportion of ligulate to non-ligulate individuals depends upon the 
number of these ligule-producing factors contained in the dominant 
parent. Emerson* found, on the other hand, that in Maize mixed 
families showed constantly a 3 to 1 ratio, indicating the existence of 
only one controlling factor. 

From time to time the objection has been raised that the Mendelian 
type of inheritance is not exhibited in the case of specific characters. 
That no such sharp line of distinction can be drawn between the 
behaviour of varietal and specific features has been repeatedly demon- 
strated. As a case in point and one of the earliest in which clear 
proof of Mendelian segregation was obtained, we may instance Datura. 
The two forms, D. Stramonium and D. Tatula, ave ranked by all 
systematists as distinct species. Among other specific differences 1s 
the flower colour. The one form has purple flowers, the other pure 
white. In the case of both species a variety inermis is known in which 
the prickles characteristic of the fruit in the type are wanting. It has 
been found that in whatever way the two pairs of opposite characters 
are combined in a cross between the species, the F, generation is mixed, 

comprising the four possible combinations in the proportions which 
we should expect in the ‘case of two independently inherited pairs of 
characters, when each pair of opposites shows the dominant-recessive 
relation. Segregation is as sharp and clean in the specific character 
flower colour as in the varietal character of the fruit. Among the 
latest additions to the list of specific hybrids showing Mendelian inheri- 
tance, those occurring in the genus Salix are of special interest, since 
heretofore the data available had been interpreted as conflicting with 
the Mendelian conception. The recent observations of Heribert- 
Nilsson * show that those characters which are regarded by systematists 
as constituting the most distinctive marks of the species are referable 
to an extremely simple factorial system, and that the factors mendelise 
in the ordinary way. Furthermore, these specific-character factors 

® Kreuzungsuntersuchungen an Hafer und Weizen, Lund, 1909. 
4 Annual Report of the Agricultural Experiment Station of the University of 
Nebraska, 1912. 
5 Hxperimentelle Studien iiber Variabilitdit, Spaltung, Arthildung und 
Bvolution in der Gattung Salix, 1918. 


control not only the large constant morphological features, but funda- 
mental reactions such as those determining the condition of physio- 
logical equilibrium and vitality in general. In so far as any distinction 
can be drawn between the behaviour of factors determining the varietal 
as opposed to the specific characters of the systematist, Heribert- 
Nilsson concludes that the former are more localised in their action, 
while the latter produce more diffuse results, which may affect almost 
all the organs and functions of the individual, and thus bring about 
striking alterations in the general appearance. S. caprea, for example, 
is regarded as the reaction product of two distinct factors which together 
control the leaf-breadth character, but which also affect, each separately 
and in a different way, leaf form, leaf colour, height, and the periodicity 
of certain phases. We cannot, however, draw a hard-and-fast line 
between the two categories. The factor controlling a varietal charac- 
teristic often produces effects in different parts of the plant. For 
example, the factors which lead to the production of a coloured flower 
no doubt also in certain cases cause the tinging seen in the vegetative 
organs, and affect the colour of the seed. MHeribert-Nilsson suggests 
that fertility between species is a matter of close similarity in genotypic 
(factorial) constitution rather than of outward morphological resem- 
blance. Forms sundered by the systematist on the ground of gross 
differences in certain anatomical features may prove to be more akin, 
more compatible in constitution, than others held to be more nearly 
related because the differentiating factors happen to control less 
conspicuous features. 

Turning to the consideration of the more complex types of inheri- — 

tance already referred to, we find numerous instances where a somatic 

character shows a certain degree of coupling or linkage with another — 
perhaps wholly unrelated character. This phenomenon becomes still 

further complicated when, as is now known to occur fairly frequently, 

somatic characters are linked also with the sex character. The results : 

of such linkages appear in the altered proportions in which the various 
combinations of the several characters appear on cross-breeding. 

Linkage of somatic characters can be readily demonstrated in the garden — 
Stock. Some strains have flowers with deeply coloured sap, e.g., full — 

red or purple; others are of a pale shade such as a light purple or 
flesh-colour. In most commercial strains the ‘eye’ of the flower is 
white owing to absence of colour in the plastids, but in some the plastids 
are cream-coloured, causing the sap colour to appear of a much richer 
hue and giving a cream ‘eye.’ Oream plastid colour is recessive to 
white and the deep sap colours are recessive to the pale. When a 
cream-eyed strain lacking the pale factor is bred with a white-eyed 
plant of some pale shade, the four possible combinations appear in 

F. but not, as we should expect in the case of two independently 

inherited one-factor characters, in the proportions 9: 3: 3:1, with the 

double recessive as the least abundant of the four forms. We find 

instead that the double dominant and the double recessive are both 
in excess of expectation, the latter being more abundant than either 
of the combinations of one dominant. character with one recessive. 
The two forms which preponderate are. those which exhibit the 

K.— BOTANY. 175 

combinations seen in the parents, the two smaller categories are those 
representing the new combinations of one paternal with one maternal 
characteristic. In the Sweet Pea several characters are linked in this 
manner, viz.: flower colour with pollen shape, flower colour with 
form of standard, pollen shape with form of standard, colour of leaf 
axil with functioning capacity of the anthers. If in these cases the 
cross happens to be made in such a way that the two. dominant 
characters are brought in one from each side of the pedigree instead 
of both being contributed by one parent, we get again a result in which 
the two parental combinations occur more frequently, the two recom- 
binations or ‘crossovers’ less often than we should expect. In the 
first case the two characters appear to hang together in descent to a 
certain extent but not completely, in the latter similarly to repel each 
other. This type of relationship has been found to be of very general 
occurrence. The linked characters do not otherwise appear to be con- 
nected in any way that we can trace, and we therefore conclude that 
the explanation must be sought in the mechanism of distribution. Two 
main theories having this fundamental principle as their basis but 
otherwise distinct have been put forward, and are usually referred to 
as the reduplication and the chromosome view respectively. The 
reduplication view, proposed by Bateson and Punnett,* rests on the idea 
that segregation of factors need not necessarily occur simultaneously 
at a particular cell division. The number of divisions following the 
segregation of some factors being assumed to be greater than those 
occurring in the case of others, there would naturally result a larger 
number of gametes carrying some factorial combinations and fewer 
earrying others. If this differential process is conceived as occurring 
in an orderly manner it would enable us to account for the facts 
observed. We could imagine how it came about that gametic ratios 
such as 3: 1: 1: 3,7: 1:1: 7,15: 1: 1: 15, and so on arose giving the 
series of linkages observed. It has, however, to be said that we cannot 
say why segregation should be successive nor at what moments, on 
this view, it must be presumed to occur. On the other hand, the 
conceptions embodied in the chromosome hypothesis as formulated by 
Morgan and his fellow-workers’ are, in these respects, quite precise. 
They are built around one cardinal event in the life cycle of animals — 
and plants (some of the lowest forms excepted), viz.: the peculiar type 

of cell division at which the number of chromosomes is reduced to 
half that to be found during the period of the life cycle extending 
backwards from this moment to the previous act of fertilisation. In 
the large number of cases already investigated the chromosome number 
has been found as a rule to be the same at each division of the somatic 
cells. We can, in fact, take it as established that it is ordinarily con- 
stant for the species. These observations lend strong support to the 
view that the chromosomes are persistent structures; that is to say, 
‘that the chromatin tangle of the resting nucleus, whether actually 
composed of one continuous thread or not, becomes resolved into 

*® Proc. Roy. Soc., 1911. } . 
7-The Mechanism of Mendelian Heredity (Morgan, Sturtevant, Muller, 
Bridges), 1915. 


separate chromosomes at corresponding loci at each successive mitosis. 
The reduction from the diploid to the haploid number, according to 
the more generally accepted interpretation of the appearances during 
the meiotic phase, is due to the adhering together in pairs of homologous 
chromosomes, each member of the set originally received from one 
parent lying alongside and in close contact with its mate received from 
the other. Later these bivalent chromosomes are resolved into their 
components so that the two groups destined one for either pole consist 
of whole dissimilar chromosomes, which then proceed to divide again 
longitudinally to furnish equivalent half chromosomes to each of the 
daughter nuclei. According to the view of Farmer the homologous 
chromosomes do not lie alongside, but become joined end to end. The 
longitudinal split seen in the bivalent structure is interpreted as a 
separation not of whole chromosomes but of half chromosomes already 
formed in anticipation of the second division of the meiotic phase. As 
however on either interpretation the same result is ultimately secured, 
viz.: the distribution of whole paternal and maternal chromosomes to 
different nuclei which now contain the haploid number, it is not essen- 
tial to our present purpose to discuss the cytological evidence in support 
of these opposing views in further detail. Nor, indeed, would it 
be practicable within the limits of this Address. The obvious close 
parallel between the behaviour of the chromosomes—their pairing and 
separation—and that of Mendelian allelomorphs which similarly show 
pairing and segregation, first led to the suggestion that the factors 
controlling somatic characters are located in these structures. The 
ingenious extension of this view which has been elaborated by Morgan 
and his co-workers presumes the arrangement of the factors in linear 
series after the manner of the visible chromomeres—the bead-like 
elements which can be seen in many organisms to compose the 
chromatin structure—each factor and its opposite occupying correspond- 
ing loci in homologous chromosomes. From this conception follows 
the important corollary of the segregation of the factors during the 
process of formation and subsequent resolution of the bivalent chromo- 
somes formed at the reduction division. We should suppose, according 
to Morgan, in the case of characters showing independent inheritance 
and giving identical Mendelian ratios whichever way the mating is 
made, and however the factorial combination is brought about, that the 
factors controlling the several characters are located in different 
chromosomes. Thus, in the case of Datura already mentioned, the two 
factors affecting sap colour and prickliness respectively would be pre- 
sumed to be located so far apart in the resting chromatin thread that 
when separation into chromosomes takes place they become distributed 
to different members. Where unrelated characters show a linked 
inheritance the factors concerned are held on the other hand to lie so 
near together that they are always located in one and the same chromo- 
some. Furthermore, and here we come to the most debatable of the 
assumptions in Morgan’s theory, when the bivalent chromosome com- 
posed of a maternal and a paternal component gives rise at: the reduction 
division to two single dissimilar chromosomes, these new chromosomes 
do not always represent the original intact maternal and paternal 

K.—BOTANY. 177 

components. It has been observed in many forms that the bivalent struc- 
ture has the appearance of a twisted double thread. Already in 1909 
cytological study of the salamander had led Janssen* to conclude 
that fusion might take place at the crossing points, so that when the 
twin members ultimately draw apart each is composed of alternate 
portions of the original pair. Morgan explains the breeding results 
obtained with Drosophila by a somewhat similar hypothesis. He also 
conceives that. in the process of separation of the twin lengths of 
chromatin cleavage between the two is not always clean, portions of 
the one becoming interchanged with corresponding segments of the 
other, so that both daughter chromosomes are made up of comple- 
mentary sections of the maternal and paternal members of the duplex 
chromosome. To picture this let us imagine that two bars of that 
delectable substance, Turkish Delight, one pink and one white, are laid 
alongside and are then given a half twist round each other and pressed 
together. If, with a knife inserted between the two pieces at one 
end, the double bar is now sliced longitudinally down the middle neither 
of the two halves will be wholly pink or wholly white. Each half will be 
particoloured, the pink portion in one and the portion which is white in 
the other representing corresponding regions of the original bars. If 
the complete twist is made, or if the number of turns is still further 
increased before the slicing, the number of alternately coloured por- 
tions will naturally be increased correspondingly. Though the precise 
manner in which the postulated chromosomal interchange is brought 
about in Janssen’s ‘chiasmatype’ and Morgan’s ‘ crossing-over ’ 
scheme is different, the resulting gametic output would be the same. 
A critical examination by Wilson and Morgan,’ from different aspects, 
of Janssen’s interpretation of the cytological evidence including dis- 
cussion of his latest suggestion that in the case of compound ring 
chromosomes cleavage in one plane would result in the separation of 
homologous elements in one ring but not in another has just appeared. 
These authors are not disposed to accept Janssen’s conclusions,*® but 
reserve their final statement pending the appearance of his promised 
further contribution. Should Janssen’s view of the evolutions of these 
complex chromosome structures be upheld, the process of segregation 
might in such cases become extended over more than one mitosis, as 
on the reduplication theory is conceived to be the case at some point, 
though evidence in this direction has hitherto been lacking. Bisection 
of a bivalent chromosome in this fashion might, moreover, yield the 
class of results to explain which Morgan has found it necessary to 
have recourse to hypothetical lethal factors. On the main issue, how- 
ever, both schemes are in accord. A physical basis for the phenomenon 
of linkage is found in the presumed nature and behaviour of the 
chromosomes, viz.: their colloidal consistency, their adhesion after 
pairing at the points of contact, when in the twisted condition, and 
their consequent failure to separate cleanly before undergoing the 
succeeding division. 

8 La Cellule, xxv. 
9 Am. Nat., vol. 54, 1920. 
10 See Comptes Rendus Soc. Belg. Biol., 1919 
1920 N 


According to Morgan the frequency of separation of linked 
characters is a measure of the distance apart in the chromosome of the 
loci for the factors concerned, and it becomes possible to map their 
position in the chromosome relatively to one another. In this attempt 
to find in cytological happenings a basis for the observed facts of 
inheritance our conception of the material unit in the sorting-out 
process has been pushed beyond the germ cell and even the entire 
chromosome to the component sections and particles of the latter 

To substantiate the ‘ chromosome’ view the primary requisite was 
to obtain proof that a. particular character is associated with a particular 
chromosome. With this object in view it was sought to discover a 
type in which individual chromosomes could be identified. | Several 
observers working on different animals found that a particular chromo- 
some differing in form from the rest could be traced at the maturation 
division, and that this chromosome was always associated with the sex 
character in the following manner. The female possessed an even 
number of chromosomes so that each egg received an identical number, 
including this particular sex-chromosome. The male contained an 
uneven number, having one fewer than the female, with the result 
that half the sperms received the same number as the egg including 
the sex-chromosome, and half were deficient in this particular chromo- 
some. Hggs fertilised with sperms containing the full number of 
chromosomes developed into females, while those fertilised with sperms 
lacking this distinctive chromosome produced males. Morgan made 
the further discovery in the fruit fly Drosophila ampelophila that certain 
factors controlling various somatic characters were located in the sex- 
chromosome. The inheritance of these characters and of sex evidently 
went together. A male exhibiting the dominant condition of such a 
sex-linked character bred to a recessive female gave daughters all 
dominant and sons all recessive (fig. 2), but in the reciprocal cross both 
sons and daughters proved to be all dominants (fig. 1). Since the 
mother with the dominant factor contributed it to all her children 
(fig. 1), whereas, where the father bore it, it descended only to his 
daughters (fig. 2), it was apparent that the female was homozygous 
and the male heterozygous for the somatic character. Further, 
although no distinction is observable in this species between the sperms, 
the occurrence of this sex-linked form of inheritance indicated that here, 
as in the other cases mentioned, it is the female which behaves as a 
homozygote for the ser character and the male as a heterozygote, the 
sex-chromosomes of some sperms differing presumably in character, 
though not in appearance, from those of others. The sperms. of 
Drosophila are therefore conceived as of two kinds, one containing the 
same sex-chromosome as the eggs, the so-called X chromosome, and 
the other a mate of a different nature, the Y chromosome, which 
appears to be inert and unable to carry the dominant allelomorphs. 
If, now, we suppose the factor for the sex-linked somatic character 
to be located in the X chromosomes we understand why the dominant 
female, which is XX, and therefore furnishes an X chromosome 
to every egg, should contribute the dominant character to all her 

K.— BOTANY. 179 

offspring. And conversely, why the dominant male, which is XY, when 
bred to a recessive female, produces offspring which are either female 
and dominant or male and recessive. 

Tracing the chromosomes into the next (F,) generation we see also 
the reason for the different result obtained from the reciprocal matings 
if the F, individuals are inbred. When the female parent has the 
dominant sex-linked character half the eggs of the daughters and half 
the sperms of the sons receive this character. As the sperms receive 
it along with the X chromosome fertilisation of either kind of egg by 
these X sperms will cause the character to descend to each grand- 
daughter. The grandsons, on the other hand, since they arise from 
fertilisation by the sperms lacking the dominant character—i.e., by the 
Y sperms—will be dominant or recessive according as these sperms 
unite with the one type of egg or with the other. Thus we get the 
Mendelian F, ratio 3D to 1R (fig. 1), but so linked with sex that the 
dominant class comprises half the males and all the females, while 
the remaining half of the males make up the recessive class. Where 
it is the male parent that carries the dominant, and where therefore 
the dominant character passes along with the X chromosome only 
to the daughters in F,, their eggs, as in the reciprocal cross, are of 
two kinds, but the sons’ sperms all carry the recessive allelomorphs. 
Both kinds of eggs being fertilised with both X sperms and Y sperms, 
the dominant and recessive characters will occur equally in both sexes 
among the grandchildren, and we get the Mendelian ratio of 1D to 
1R (fig. 2). Muller ** puts the number of factors already located in the 
X chromosome of Drosophila at not less than 500, and in those that 
have so far been investigated this form of inheritance has been found 
to hold. 

Instances of sex-linked inheritance are now known in many animals, 
some of which are strictly comparable with Drosophila, others follow 
the same general principle, but have the relations of the sexes reversed, 
as exemplified by the moth Abraxas, which has been worked out by 
Doncaster,'? whose sudden death we have so recently to deplore. Here 
the female is the heterozygous sex, and contains the dummy mate of 
the sex-chromosome. 

The behaviour of the sex-chromosomes as here outlined suffices to 
account for the occurrence of sex-linked inheritance, but the relations 
found to hold between one sex-linked character and another need 
further explanation. If a cross is made involving two sex-linked 
characters, the F, females when tested by a double recessive male are 
found to produce the expected four classes of gametes, but not in equal 
proportions, nor in the same proportions in the case of different pairs of 
sex-linked characters. Partial linkage (coupling) occurs of the kind 
which has already been described for the Stock and the Sweet Pea. 
The parental combinations predominate, the recombinations (‘ cross- 
overs *) comprise the smaller categories. The strength of the linkage 
varies, however, for different characters, but is found to be constant 
for any given pair. Since the sex-linked factors are by hypothesis 

11 Am. Nat., vol. liv., 1920. 
Rep, Evolution Committee, iv., 1908. 



Sperms @ 





carried in the sex-chromosomes, a clean separation of homologous 
members at meiosis should result in the characters which were asso- 
ciated in the parents remaining strictly in the same combination in 
each succeeding generation. The fact that this is not the case has 
led Morgan to conclude that an interchange of chromosome material 
must take place at this phase among a proportion of the gametes, and 
that the percentage of these ‘ cross-overs’ will depend on the distance 
apart of the loci of the factors concerned. This phenomenon of linkage 
may also be exhibited by pairs of characters which show uo sex- 
linkage in their inheritance. The factors involved in these latter cases 
must presumably, therefore, be disposed in one of the chromosomes 
which is not the sex-chromosome. 

To this brief sketch of the main points of Morgan’s chromosome 
theory must be added mention of the extremely interesting 
relation which lends strong support to his view, and the significance of 
which seems scarcely to admit of question, viz.: that in Drosophila 
ampelophila there are four pairs of chromosomes, and that the linkage 
relations of the hundred and more characters investigated indicate that 
they form four distinct groups. It is hardly possible to suppose that 
the one fact is not directly connected with the other. The interesting 
discovery of Bridges ** that the appearance of certain unexpected cate- 
gories among Drosophila offspring, where females of a particular 
strain were used, coincided with the presence in these females of an 
additional chromosome adds another link in the chain of evidence. On 
examination it was found that in these females the X chromosome pair 
occasionally failed to separate at the reduction division, and conse- 
quently that the two XX chromosomes sometimes both remained in the 
egg, and sometimes both passed out into the polar body. Hence there 
arose from fertilisation of the XX eggs some individuals containing 
three sex-chromosomes, with the resulting upset of the expectation in 
regard to. sex-limitation of characters which was observed. 

It, however, remains a curious anomaly that in the cross-bred 
Drosophila male no corresponding crossing-over of linked characters, 
whether associated with the sex character or not, has yet been ob- 
served. His gametes carry only the same factorial combinations 
which he received from his parents. For this contrast in the behaviour 
between the sexes there is at present no explanation. The reverse con- 
dition has been described by Tanaka’ in the silkworm. Here inter- 
change takes place in the male but not in the female. 

It must then be acknowledged that Morgan’s interpretation of the 
cytological evidence has much in its favour. The striking parallel 
between the behaviour of the chromosomes and the distributional rela- 
tions of Mendelian allelomorphs is obvious. The existence in Droso- 
phila ampelophila of four pairs of chromosomes and of four sets of 
linked characters can hardly be mere coincidence. The employment of 
the smaller physical unit in accounting for the reshuffling of characters 
in their transmission commends itself in principle. The necessity for 
postulating the occurrence of some orderly irregularity in the hereditary 

13 J. Hap. Zool., xv., 1913. 
14 J. Coll. Agr., Sapporo, Japan, 1913-14. 

K.—BOTANY. 183 

process in order to explain the phenomenon of partial linkage is, it 
will be seen, inherent alike in both theories. When, however, we come 
to examine the general applicability of Morgan’s theory we are con- 
fronted with a considerable body of facts among plants which we find 
difficult to reconcile with the requirement that factorial segregation is 
accomplished by means of the reduction division. An instance in 
which this is particularly clearly indicated is that of the sulphur-white 
Stock. I have chosen this example because here we have to do with 
two characters which are distinguished with the utmost sharpness, 
viz.: plastid colour and flower form. The peculiar behaviour of this 
strain is due to the fact that not only are the two factors for flower form 
(singleness and doubleness) differently distributed to the male and 
female sides of the individual, as in all double-throwing Stocks, but the 
factor controlling plastid colour likewise shows linkage with the sex 
nature of the germ cells. As a result every individual, even though 
self-fertilised, yields a mixed offspring, consisting chiefly of single 
whites and double creams, but including a small percentage of double 
whites. So far as the ovules are concerned, the mode of inheritance can 
be accounted for on either theory. According to the reduplication 
hypothesis the factors X Y ** producing singleness and W giving white 
plastids are partially coupled so as to give the gametic ratio on the 
female side 7 WXY: 1WXy: lwxY: 7wxy.'® On the chromosome 
scheme the factorial group WXY must be assumed to be disposed in 
one member of the bivalent chromosome formed at meiosis, the corre- 
sponding recessive allelomorphs wxy in the other. If the three factors 
be supposed to be arranged in the chromosome in alphabetical order, 
and if, on separation, a break takes place between the loci of the two 
factors for flower form (as shown), so as to give ‘ cross-overs’ of Y 

Ovules Pollen, 

** The letters X and Y are used here to denote particular factors, not, as in 
Morgan’s scheme, the entire sex-chromosomes. 
18 Or possibly 15:1:1:15. 


and y in about 12 per cent. of the gametes, the occurrence of such 
‘ cross-overs ’ would fulfil the required conditions. But the case of the 
pollen presents a distinct difficulty on this latter view. This Stock is 
distinguished both from the Drosophila and the Abraxas type by the 
fact that none of the male germs carry either of the dominant charac- 
ters. In place of the XX—xXY form of sex-linked inheritance in 
the former type and the WZ—ZZ in the latter, we should need to 
regard this form as constituting a new class, which we might represent 
as DR—RR, thus indicating that both members of the bivalent chromo- 
some on the male side appear to be inert and able to carry only the 
recessive characters, and hence are represented as RR, in contrast with 
the DR pair of the female side. By this formula we can indicate the 
behaviour of the several double-throwing strains. It is, besides, becom- 
ing clear, I think, from recent results that there is no ‘ crossing over ’ of 
these factors on the male side in the F, cross-breds. But the real 
difficulty is to explain why these factors are confined to the female side 
in the ever-sporting individual. This may result from aberrant 
behaviour or loss of chromosomes at some point in pollen development. 
On this point I hope that evidence will shortly be available. Failing 
such evidence the presumption is that the elimination of XY (and in one 
strain of W) must have taken place prior to, and not at, the 
moment of the maturation division. Morgan’s proposal to fit 
the pollen into his scheme for Drosophila by having recourse to hypo- 
thetical lethal factors does not appeal to the observer, who finds the 
pollen all uniformly good and every ovule set. Zygotic lethals are 
clearly not in question under these circumstances. The supposition of 
gametic lethals confined to the pollen appears far-fetched, seeing 
that of the missing combinations two, viz.: single white, the double 
dominant, and double white a dominant-recessive, occur in the 
ovules, and the third, the single cream, the other dominant-recessive, 
exists as a pure strain, so that the homozygous condition is evidently 
not in itself a cause of non-development. Other examples suggesting 
premeiotic segregation can be quoted, notably cases among variegated 
plants and plants showing bud sports, where somatic segregation appears 
to be of regular occurrence. Among the Musciniae the present evidence 
appears to show that the sex potentiality segregates in some forms at 
the division of the spore mother cells, so that already the spores possess 
a sex character; while in other species this separation takes place later, 
during the development of the gametophyte, the spores being then all 
alike and undifferentiated in this respect. In Fumaria hygrometrica, 
an example of the latter class, an attempt has been made by E. J. 
Collins** to ascertain the stage at which sex segregation takes place 
by inducing the growth of new individuals from isolated portions of the 
vegetative tissues of the gametophyte. No doubt when the evidence 
is derived from experiments in which a portion of the plant has been 
severed from the rest, it is possible to urge that the result obtained 
is not necessarily indicative of the potentizlity in the intact organism. 
Phenotypic appearance is the product of a reaction system, in which 
the internal as well as the external environment plays its part. We 

17 Journal of Genetics, vol. viii., 1919. 


K.—BOTANY. 185 

have, for example, evidence that the manifestation of a character may 
be dependent upon the variation of internal conditions with age; in 
other words, a time relation may be involved.** Or, again, upon the 
state of general internal equilibrium resulting from the relation of one 
morphological member or region to another. Thus removal of the 
lamina of the leaf, so as to leave only the midrib, may cause the 
mutilated individual to develop hairs on the stems and petioles in the 
same environment in which the intact individual remains hairless. 
Injury from attack by insects in a glabrous form may in like manner 
lead to the production of hairs which, by their resemblance to those 
of an allied species, show that the pathological condition set up has 
caused genetic potentiality to become actual. But even if we exclude 
the class of evidence to which objection on these grounds might be 
made, there still remain various cases of normal types, where, unless 
the behaviour of the chromosomes should point to a different explana- 
tion, it seems mosi natural to assume that segregation takes place before 
the reduction division. 
It has been argued from time to time that any scheme representing 
the mechanism of Heredity which leaves out of account the cytoplasm 
must prove inadequate. This general statement has been expressed in 
more definite form by Loeb,’® who holds that the egg cytoplasm 
is to be looked upon as determining the broad outlines, in fact as 
standing for the embryo ‘in the rough,’ upon which are impressed in 
the course of development the characteristics controlled by the factors 
segregated in the chromosomes. The arguments in fayour of the view 
that the cytoplasm, apart from its general functions in connection with 
growth and nutrition, is the seat of a particular hereditary process are 
mainly derived from observation upon embryonic characters in certain 
animals, chiefly Echinoderms, where the inheritance appears to be 
purely maternal. It has been shown, however, that such female 
prepotency is no indication that inheritance of the determining factors 
takes place through the cytoplasm. Other causes may lead to this 
result. It has been observed, for example, that hybrid sea-urchin larvae, 
which at one season of the year were maternal in type, at another 
_ were all paternal in character, showing that the result was due to some 
effect of the environment. Again, where the hybrid plutei showed purely 
maternal characters it was discovered by Baltzer ?° that in the earliest 
mitoses of the cross-fertilised eggs a certain number of chromosomes 
fail to reach the poles, and are consequently left out of the daughter 
nuclei. The chromosomes thus lost probably represent those contributed 
_by the male gamete, for in both parents certain individual chromosomes 
can be identified owing to differences in shape and size. After this 
_ process of elimination those characteristic of the male parent could 
not be traced, whereas the one pair distinctive of the female parent 

was still recognisable. In the reciprocal cross where the first mitosis 

8 As in the case of characters which exhibit a regular change of phase, 
€.g., the colour of white and cream Stocks is indistinguishable in the bud, and 
a yellow-seeded Pea 1s green at an earlier stage. 

%° The Organism as a Whole, 1916. 

*° Archiv fiir Zellforschung, v., 1910. 


follows a normal course the embryos are intermediate in regard to 
character of the skeleton, thus affording proof of the influence of the 
male parent. Another type of case is found in the silkworm. Here 
a certain rate character determining the time of hatching out of the 
eggs has been shown to exhibit normal Mendelian inheritance, the 
appearance that it is transmissible by the female through the cytoplasm 
alone being delusive. The eggs are always laid in the spring. Accord- 
ing as they hatch out immediately so that a second brood is obtained 
in the year, or do not hatch out for twelve months, the female parent 
laying the eggs is described as bivoltin or univoltin. Now the length 
of interval before hatching is obviously an egg character, and therefore 
maternal in origin. Consequently when a cross is made between a 
univoltin female and a bivoltin male the eggs laid are not cross-bred 
in respect of this character, any more than the seed formed as a result 
of a cross is cross-bred in respect of its seed coat, which is a maternal 
structure. The silkworm mother being univoltin, the eggs will not 
hatch out until the following spring. The F, mother will in turn 
lay eggs which again take twelve months to hatch, since the long- 
period factor is the dominant. It is not until the eggs of the F, 
generation are laid that we see the expression of the character introduced 
by the bivoltin father. For some of the egg batches hatch at once, 
others not for twelve months, showing that of the F. females some 
were uni- and some bi-voltin, and hence that the egg character in any 
generation depends upon both the maternal and the paternal antecedents 
of the female producing the eggs. Consequently, in the case of an 
egg character the effects of inheritance must be looked for in the genera- 
tion succeeding that in which the somatic characteristics of the zygote 
become revealed. We find in fact that in almost all instances where 
the evidence is suggestive of purely cytoplasmic inheritance, fuller 
investigation has shown that the explanation is to be found in one of 
the causes here indicated. The case of some plants where it has been 
established that reciprocal hybrids are dissimilar still, however, remains 
to be cleared up. Among such may be cited certain Digitalis hybrids. 
Differences in the reciprocal hybrids of D. grandiflora and D. lutea 
were described by Gaertner, and in the earlier literature dealing with 
Digitalis species hybrids other cases are to be found. In more recent 
years J. H. Wilson *! has repeated the crossing of D. purpurea and 
D. lutea, and states that the reciprocals are indistinguishable during 
the vegetative period, but that they differ in size and colouring of the 
flowers, the resemblance being the greater in each case to the seed 
parent. A detailed comparison of the differential characters of the 
reciprocal hybrids of D. purpurea and D. grandiflora has been set out 
by Neilson Jones,?* who similarly finds in both matings a greater 
resemblance to the mother species. We know nothing as yet of the 
cytology of these cases, and it is not improbable that the interpretation 
may be found in some aberrant behaviour of the chromosomes. An 
instance in a plant type where a definite connection appears traceable 
between chromosome behaviour and somatic appearance has been 

21 Rep. Third International Congress on Genetics, R.H.S, 1906. 
22 J. of Genetics, vol. ii., 1912. 

K.—-BOTANY. 187 

recently emphasised by Gates,** who attributes the peculiarity of the 
lata mutation in Gnothera (which has arisen as a modification at 
different times from each of three distinct species) to an irregularity 
‘in meiosis in the germ mother cells whereby one daughter cell receives 
an extra duplicate chromosome while the sister cell lacks this chromo- 
some. The cell with the extra chromosome fertilised by a normal germ 
produces a lata individual. On the chromosome view every normal 
fertilised egg contains a double set of chromosomes, each carrying a 
complete set of the factor elements. Hence, if some of the one set 
become eliminated we can still imagine that a normal though under- 
sized individual might develop. The converse relation where increased 
‘size goes with multiplication of chromosomes was discovered by 
Gregory,” in a Primula, and occurs also in @nothera gigas, a mutant 
‘derived from G@. Lamarckiana. Gregory found in his cultures giant 
individuals which behaved as though four instead of two sets of factors 
were present, and upon examination these individuals were found to 
contain twice the normal number of chromosomes. It is interesting 
‘in this connection to recall the results obtained by Nemec?® as the 
result of subjecting the root tips of various plants to the narcotising 
action of chloral hydrate. Under this treatment cells undergoing 
division at the time were able to form the daughter nuclei, but the 
production of a new cell wall was inhibited. The cells thus became 
binucleate. If on recovery these cells were to fuse before proceeding 
to divide afresh a genuine tetraploid condition would result. So few 
cases of natural tetraploidy have so far been observed that we have as 
yet no clue to the cause which leads to this condition. 
_ The conclusions to which we are led by the considerations which 
have here been put forward are, in the main, that we have no warrant 
‘in the evidence so far available for attributing special hereditary pro- 
cesses to the cytoplasm as distinct from the nucleus. On the other 
hand, there is a very large body of facts pointing to a direct connection 
‘between phenotypic appearance and chromosomal behaviour. In 
animals the evidence that the chromosomes constitute the distributional 
“mechanism may be looked upon as almost tantamount to proof; in 
‘plants the observations on Drosera, Primula, Ginothera, Spherocarpus 
‘are in harmony with this view. When we come, however, to the 
‘question of linkage and general applicability of the conception of 
crossing over’ as adopted by Morgan and his school we are on less 
‘certain ground. In Drosophila itself, the case which the scheme was 
framed to fit, the entire absence of ‘ crossing over’ in the male remains 
‘unaccounted for, while the evidence from certain plant types appears 
to be definitely at variance with one of its fundamental premises. If 
Segregation at the recognised reduction division is definitely established 
for animal types, then we must conclude that the sorting-out process 
may follow a different course in the plant. 
' The question as to what is the precise nature of the differences for 

_ 73 New Phytologist, vol. xix., 1920. 

_ *4 Proc. Roy. Soc., vol. 1xxxvii. B, 1914. 

#5 Jahrb. f. wiss. Bot., xxxix., 1904, ‘Das Problem der Begruchtungsvor- 
gange,’ 1910. 


which the Mendelian factors stand is constantly before the mind of the 
breeder, but we are only now on the threshold of investigation in this 
direction, and it is doubtful whether we can as yet give a certain answer 
in any single instance. Still less are we able to say what the actual 
elements or units which undergo segregation may be. In the case of 
such allelomorphic pairs as purple and red sap colour or white or 
cream plastid colour it may be that the difference is wholly qualitative, 
consisting merely in the formation or non-formation of some one 
chemical substance. But the majority of characteristics are not of 
this hard-and-fast type. Between some the distinction appears to be 
one of range—to be quantitative rather than, or as well as, qualitative 
in nature, and range must mean, presumably, either cumulative effect 
or a force or rate difference. It may well be, for example, that with 
some change in physiological equilibrium accompanying growth and 
development, factorial action may be enhanced or accelerated, or, on 
the other hand, retarded or even inhibited altogether, and a regional 
grading result in consequence. Range in a character is not confined to, 
though a common characteristic of, individuals of cross-bred origin. It 
may be a specific feature, both constant and definite in nature. For 
example, a change as development proceeds from a glabrous or nearly 
glabrous to a hairy condition is not of unusual occurrence in plants. 
In the Stock such a gradational assumption of hairiness is apparent no 
less in the homozygous form containing a certain weak allelomorph 
controlling surface character, when present with the factors for sap 
colour, than in those heterozygous for this or some other essential 
component. We see a similar transition in several members of the 
Scrophulariacee—e.g., in various species of Digitalis, in Antirrhinum 
majus, Antirrhinum Orontium, Anarrhinum pedatum, Pentstemon, and 
Nemesia. In perennials an annual recurrence of this change of phase 
may be seen, as in various species of Viola and in Spirea Ulmaria. 
It is somewhat curious that the transition may be in the same direction 
—from smoothness to hairiness—in forms in which the dominant-reces- 
sive relation of the two conditions is opposite in nature, as in Matthiola 
on the one hand and Digitalis purpurea nudicaulis on the other. Mani- 
festation of the dominant characteristic gradually declines in the Fox- 
glove, while it becomes more pronounced in the Stock. In some, per- 
haps all, of these cases the allelomorphs may stand for certain states 
of physiological equilibrium, or such states may be an accompanying 
feature of factorial action. A change of phase may mean an altered 
balance, a difference of rhythm in interdependent physiological pro- 
cesses. In the case, for instance, of a certain sub-glabrous strain of 
Stock in which the presence of a single characteristically branched 
hair or hair-tuft over the water-gland terminating the midrib in a_ 
leaf otherwise glabrous is an hereditary character, it is hardly conceiv- — 
able that there is a localisation in this region of a special hair-forming 
substance. It seems more probable that some physiological condition 

intimately connectea with the condition of water-content at some 

critical period is a causal factor in hair production, and that this con- 

dition is set up over the whole leaf in the type, but in the particular 

strain in question is maintained only at the point which receives the 

K.—BOTANY. 189 

largest and most direct supply. In this same strain a leaf may now 
and again be found lacking this hydathode trichome in an otherwise 
continuous hair-forming series, an occurrence which may well result 
from a slight fluctuation in physiological equilibrium such as is inherent 
in all vital processes—a fluctuation which, when the genetic indicator 
is set so near to the zero point, may well send it off the scale altogether. 
If, as is not improbable in this and similar cases, we are concerned with 
a complex chain of physiological processes, investigation of the nature 
of the differences for which the allelomorphs stand may present a more 
difficult problem than where the production of a particular chemical 
compound appears to be involved. In such a physiological conception 
we have probably the explanation of the non-appearance of the recessive 
character in certain dominant cross-breds. 

Up to this point we have treated of the organism from the aspect 
of its being a wholly self-controlled, independent system. As regards 
some characteristics, this may be regarded as substantially the case. 
That is to say, the soma reflects under all observed conditions the 
genetic constitution expressed in the Mendelian formula. Corre- 
spondence is precise between genotypic potentiality and phenotypic 
reality, and we have so far solved our problem that we can predict cer- 
tainly and accurately the appearance of offspring, knowing the consti- 
tution of the parents. In such cases we may say that the efficiency 
of the genetic machine works out at 100 per cent., the influence of 
external environment at 0. Our equation somatic appearance=factorial 
constitution requires no correction for effect of conditions of tem- 
perature, humidity, illumination, and the like. But most somatic 
characters show some degree of variability. Phenotypic appearance 
is the outcome primarily of genotypic constitution, but upon this are 
superposed fluctuations, slight or more pronounced, arising ag the 
result of reaction to environmental conditions. In the extreme case 
the genetic machinery may, so to speak, be put out of action; geno- 
typic potentiality no longer becomes actual. We say that the character 
is not inherited. We meet with such an example in Ranunculus 
aquatilis. According to Mer,*® the terrestrial form of this plant has no 
hairs on the ends of the leaf segments, but in the aquatic individual the 
segments end in needle-shaped hairs. That is to say, hairs of a definite 
form are produced in a definite region. Again, Massart?7 finds that 
in Polygonum amphibium the shoot produces characteristic multi- 
cellular hairs when exposed to the air, but if submerged it ceases to form 
them on the new growth. Every individual, however bred, behaves 
in the same manner, and must therefore have the same genetic con- 
stitution. In an atmospheric environment genotypic expression is 

achieved, in water it becomes physiologically impossible. A limitation 
to genotypic expression may in like manner be brought about by the 
internal environment, for the relation of the soma to the germ elements 
may be looked upon in this light. Thus in the case of a long-pollened 
and round-pollened Sweet Pea Bateson and Punnett ?* found that the 

26 Bull. Soc. Bot. de France, i. 27, 1880. 
°7 Bull. Jard. Bot. Bruxelles, i. 2, 1902. 
28 Report to the Hvolution Committee, Roy. Soc., ii., 1905. 


F, pollen grains are all long, yet half of them carry the factor for 
roundness. If we take the chromosome view, and if it be presumed 
that the factor for roundness is not segregated until the reduction 
division, the cytoplasm of the pollen mother cells may be supposed to 
act as a foreign medium owing to a mixture of qualities having been 
impressed upon it through the presence of the two opposite allelomorphs 
before the moment of segregation. We should consequently infer that 
the round pollen shape is only produced when the round-factor-bearing 
chromosome is surrounded by the cytoplasm of an individual which 
does not contain the long factor. If, further, we regard the result in 
this case as indicative of the normal inter-relation of nucleus and 
cytoplasm in the hereditary process, we shall be led to the view that 
whatever the earlier condition of mutual equilibrium or interchange 
between these two essential cell constituents may be, an ultimate stage 
is reached in which the réle of determining agent must be assigned to 
the nucleus. To pursue this theme farther, however, in the present 
state of our knowledge would serve no useful purpose. 

Before bringing this Address to a conclusion I may be permitted to 
add one word of explanation and appeal. In my remarks I have 
deliberately Ieft on one side all reference to the immense practical 
value of breeding experiments on Mendelian lines. To have done so 
adequately would have absorbed the whole time at my disposal. It is 
unnecessary to-day to point out the enormous social and economic gain 
following from the application of Mendelian methods of investigation 
and of the discoveries which have resulted therefrom during the last 
twenty years, whether we have in mind the advance in our knowledge 
of the inheritance of ordinary somatic characters and of certain patho- 
logical conditions in man, of immunity from disease in races of some 
of our most important food plants, or of egg-production in our 
domestic breeds of fowls. 

My appeal is for more organised co-operation in the experimental 
study of Genetics. It is a not uncommon attitude to look upon the 
subject of Genetics as a science apart. But the complex nature of the 
problems confronting us requires that the attacking force should be a 
composite one, representing all arms. Only the outworks of the 
fortress can fall to the vanguard of breeders. Their part done, they 
wait ready to hand over to the cytologists with whom it lies to con- 
solidate the position and render our foothold secure. This accom- 
plished, the way is cleared for the main assault. To push this home 
we urgently need reinforcements. It is to the physiologists and to the 
chemists that we look to crown the victory. By their co-operation 
alone can we hope to win inside the citadel and fathom the meaning of 
those activities which take shape daily before our eyes as we stand 
without and observe, but the secret of which is withheld from our 

anew oe eee 







THE requirements of the Act of 1918 and the endeavour to frame 
scales of salaries for teachers on a national basis are, at present, absorb- 
ing so much of the energy of those engaged in educational administra- 
tion that I have thought it advisable to turn our attention from the 
immediate needs of the day to two of the wider aspects of our educa- 
tional activities, which belong to the spirit rather than to the form of 
our educational system. 

It is natural that in this meeting of the British Association for the 
Advancement of Science I should take first the Science of Education. 


The value to education of science and the scientific method has 
hitherto been for the most part indirect and incidental. It has con- 
sisted very largely in deductions from another branch of study, namely, 
psychology, and has resulted for the most part from the invasion into 
education of those who were not themselves educationists. A moment 
has now been reached when education itself should be made the subject 
of a distinct department of science, when teachers themselves should 
become scientists. 

There is in this respect a close analogy between education and 
medicine. Training the mind implies a knowledge of the mind, just 
as healing the body implies a knowledge of the body. Thus, logically, 
education is based upon psychology, as medicine is based on anatomy 
and physiology. And there the text-books of educational method are 
usually content to leave it. But medicine is much more than applied 
physiology. It constitutes an independent system of facts, gathered 
and analysed, not by physiologists in the laboratory, but by physicians 
working in the hospital or by the bedside. In the same way, then, 
education as a science should be something more than mere applied 
psychology. It must be built up not out of the speculations of 
theorists, or from the deductions of psychologists, but by direct, 
definite, ad hoc inquiries concentrated upon the problems of the class- 


room by teachers themselves. When by their own researches teachers 
have demonstrated that their art is, in fact, a science, then, and not 
till then, will the public allow them the moral, social, and economic 
status which it already accords to other professions. The engineer 
and the doctor are duly recognised as scientific experts. |The educa- 
tionish should see to it that his science also becomes recognised, no 
longer as a general topic upon which any cultured layman may dog- 
matise, but as a technical branch of science, in which the educationist 
alone, in virtue of his special knowledge, his special training, his special 
experience, is the acknowledged expert. 

Educational science has hitherto followed two main lines of investiga- 
tion: first, the evaluation and improvement of teachers’ methods; 
secondly, the diagnosis and treatment of children’s individual capacities. 

I. The Psychology of the Individual Child. 

It is upon the latter problem, or group of problems, that experi- 
mental work has in the past been chiefly directed, and in the imme- 
diate future is likely to be concentrated with the most fruitful results. 
The recent advances in ‘ individual psychology "—the youngest branch 
of that infant science—haye greatly emphasised the need, and assisted 
the development, of individual teaching. The keynote of successful 
instruction is to adapt that instruction to the individual child. But 
before instruction can be so adapted, the needs and the capacities of 
the individual child must first be discovered. 

A. Diagnosis. 

Such discovery (as in all sciences) may proceed by two methods, 
by observation and by experiment. 

(1) The former method is in education the older. At one time, 
in the hands of Stanley Hall and his followers—the pioneers of the 
Child-Study moyernent—observation yielded fruitful results. And it 
is perhaps to be regretted that of late simple observation and descrip- 
tion have been neglected for the more ambitious method of experi- 
mental tests. There is much that a vigilant teacher can do without 
using any special apparatus and without conducting any special ex- 
periment. Conscientious records of the behaviour and responses of 
individual children, accurately described without any admixture of in- 
ference or hypothesis, would lay broad foundations upon which subse- 
quent investigators could build. The study of children’s temperament 
and character, for example—factors which have not yet been accorded 
their due weight in education—must for the present proceed upon 
these simpler lines. 

(2) With experimental tests the progress made during the last 
decade has been enormous. The intelligence scale devised by Binet for 
the diagnosis of mental deficiency, the mental tests employed by the 
American army, the vocational tests now coming into use for the selec- 
tion of employees—these have done. much to familiarise, not school 
teachers and school doctors only, but also the general public, with the 
aims and. possibilities of psychological measurement. More recently 
an endeavour has been made to assess directly the results of school 

L..—-EDUCATION. 193 

instruction, and to record in quantitative terms the course of progress 
from year to year, by means of standardised tests for educational attain- 
ments. In this country research committees of the British Association 
and of the Child-Study Society have already commenced the standardisa- 
tion of normal performances in such subjects as reading and arithmetic. 
In America attempts have been made to standardise even more elusive 
subjects, such as drawing, handwork, English composition, and the 
subjects of the curriculum of the secondary school. 

B. Treatment. 

This work of diagnosis has done much to foster individual and 
differential teaching—the adaptation of education to individual children, 
or at least to special groups and types. It has not only assisted the 
machinery of segregation—of selecting the mentally deficient child at one 
end of the scale and the scholarship child at the other end; but it has 
also provided a method for assessing the results of different teaching 
methods as applied to these segregated groups. Progress has been most 
pronounced in the case of the sub-normal. The mentally defective are 
now taught in special schools, and receive an instruction of a specially 
adapted type. Some advance has more recently been made in differen- 
tiating the warious grades and kinds of so-called deficiency, and in dis- 
criminating between the deficient and the merely backward and dull. 
With regard to the morally defective and delinquent little scientific work 
has been attempted in this country, with the sole exception of the new 
experiment initiated by the Birmingham justices. In the United States 
some twenty centres or clinics have been established for the psycho- 
logical examination of exceptional children; and in England school 
medical officers and others have urged the need for ‘ intermediate’ 
classes or schools not only to accommodate backward and borderline 
cases and cases of limited or special defect (e.g., ‘ number-defect ’ and 
so-called ‘ word-blindness ’) but also to act as clearing-houses. 

In Germany and elsewhere special interest has been aroused in 
super-normal children. The few investigations already made show 
clearly that additional attention, expenditure, study, and provision will 
yield for the community a far richer return in the case of the super- 
normal than in the sub-normal. 

At Harvard and elsewhere psychologists have for some time been 
elaborating psychological tests to select those who are best fitted for 
different types of vocation. The investigation is still only in its initial 
stages. But it is clear that if vocational guidance were based, in part 
at least, upon observations and records made at school, instead of being 
based upon the limited interests and knowledge of the child and his 
parents, then not only employers, but also employees, their work, and 
the community as a whole, would profit. A large proportion of the 
vast wastage involved in the current system of indiscriminate engage- 
ment on probation would be saved. 

The influence of sex, social status, and race upon individual differ- 
ences in educational abilities has been studied upon a small scale. 
The differences are marked: and differences in sex and social status, 
when better understood, might well be taken into account both in 

1920 0 


diagnosing mental deficiency and in awarding scholarships. As a rule, 
however, those due to sex and race are smaller than is popularly sup- 
posed. How far these differences, and those associated with social 
status, are inborn and ineradicable, and how far they are due to 
differences in training and in tradition, can hardly be determined without 
a vast array of data. 

II. Teaching Methods. 

The subjects taught and the methods of teaching have considerably 
changed during recent years. In the more progressive types of schools 
several broad tendencies may be discerned. All owe their acceptance 
in part to the results of scientific investigators. 

(1) Far less emphasis is now laid upon the disciplinary value of 
subjects, and upon subjects whose value is almost solely disciplinary. 
Following in the steps of a series of American investigators, Winch and 
Sleight in this country have shown very clearly that practice in one 
kind of activity produces improvements in other kinds of activities, only 
under very limited and special conditions. The whole conception of 
transfer of training is thus changed, or (some maintain) destroyed; 
and the earlier notion of education as the strengthening, through exer- 
cise, of certain general faculties has consequently been revolutionised. 
There is a tendency to select subjects and methods of teaching rather 
for their material than their general value. 

(2) Far less emphasis is now laid upon an advance according to strict 
logical sequence in teaching a given subject of the curriculum to children 
of successive ages. The steps and methods are being adapted rather to 
the natural capacities and interests of the child of each age. This 
genetic standpoint has received great help and encouragement from 
experimental psychology. Binet’s own scale of intelligence was in- 
tended largely as a study in the mental development of the normal child. 
The developmental phases of particular characteristics (e.g., children’s 
ideals) and special characteristics of particular developmental phases 
(e.g., adolescence) have been elaborately studied by Stanley Hall and his 
followers. Psychology, indeed, has done much to emphasise the im- 
portance of the post-pubertal period—the school-leaving age, and the 
years that follow. Such studies have an obvious bearing upon the 
curriculum and methods for our new continuation schools. But it is, 
perhaps, in the revolutionary changes in the teaching methods of the 
infants’ schools, changes that are already profoundly influencing the 
methods of the senior department, that the influence of scientific study 
has been most strongly at work. 

(3) Increasing emphasis is now being laid upon mental and motor 
activities. arly educational practice, like early psychology, was ex- 
cessively intellectualistic. Recent child-study, however, has em- 
phasised the importance of the motor and of the emotional aspects of 
the child’s mental life. As a consequence, the theory and practice 
of education have assumed more of the pragmatic character which has 
characterised contemporary philosophy. grt 

The progressive introduction of manual and practical subjects, both 
in and for themselves, and as aspects of other subjects, forms the most 


notable instance of this tendency. The educational process is assumed 
to start, not from the child’s sensations (as nineteenth-century theory 
was so apt to maintain), but rather from his motor reactions to certain 
perceptual objects—objects of vital importance to him and to his species 
under primitive conditions, and therefore appealing to certain instinctive 
impulses. Further, the child’s activities in the school should be, not 
indeed identical with, but continuous with, the activities of his subse- 
quent profession or trade. Upon these grounds handicraft should now 
find a place in every school curriculum. It will be inserted both for 
its own sake, and for the sake of its connections with other subjects, 
whether they be subjects of school life, of after life, or of human life 

(4) As a result of recent psychological work, more attention is now 
being paid to the emotional, moral, and esthetic activities. This is a 
second instance of the same reaction from excessive intellectualism. 
Education in this country has ever claimed to form character as well as 
to impart knowledge. Formerly, this aim characterised the Public 
Schools rather than the public elementary schools. Recently, however, 
much has been done to infuse into the latter something of the spirit of 
the Public Schools. The principle of self-government, for example, has 
been applied with success not only in certain elementary schools, but 
also in several colonies for juvenile delinquents. And, in the latter 
case, its success has been attributed by the initiators directly to the 
fact that it is the corollary of sound child-psychology. 

Bearing closely upon the subject of moral and emotional training 
is the work of the psycho-analysts. Freud has shown that many forms 
of mental inefficiency in later life—both major (such as hysteria, 
neurosis, certain kinds of ‘ shell-shock,’ &c.) and minor (such as lapses 
of memory, of action, slips of tongue and pen)—are traceable to the 
repression of emotional experiences in earlier life. The principles 
themselves may, perhaps, still be regarded as, in part, a matter of 
controversy. But the discoveries upon which they are based vividly 
illustrate the enormous importance of the natural instincts, interests, 
and activities inherited by the child as part of his biological equip- 
ment; and, together with the work done by English psychologists such 
as Shand and McDougall upon the emotional basis of character, havé 
already had a considerable influence upon educational theory in this 
country. y 

(5) Increasing emphasis is now being laid upon freedom for indi- 
vidual effort and initiative. Here, again, the corollaries drawn from the 
psycho-analytic doctrines as to the dangers of repression are most sug- 
gestive. Already a better understanding of child-nature has led to the 
substitution of ‘internal ’ for ‘ external’ discipline ; and the pre-deter- 
mined routine demanded of entire classes is giving way to the growing 
recognition of the educational value of spontaneous efforts initiated by 
the individual, alone or in social co-operation with his fellows. 

In appealing for greater freedom still, the new psychology is in line 
with the more advanced educational experiments, such as the work done 
by Madame Montessori and the founders of the Little Commonwealth. 

(6) The hygiene and technique of mental work is itself being based 



upon scientific investigation. Of the numerous problems in the con- 
ditions and character of mental work generally, two deserve especial 
mention—fatigue, and the economy and technique of learning. 

But of all the results of educational psychology, perhaps the most 
valuable is the slow but progressive inculcation of the whole teaching 
profession with a scientific spirit in their work, and a scientific attitude 
towards their pupils and their problems. Matter taught and teaching 
methods are no longer exclusively determined by mere tradition or mere 
opinion. They are being based more and more upon impartial observa- 
tion, careful records, and statistical analysis—often assisted by labora- 
tory technique—of the actual behaviour of individual children. 


I turn now to the second aspect. 

So much of our educational system is voluntary that it is often 
called a dual system. But in speaking of a dual system only the 
primary stage is, as arule,in our minds. Yet to foreign students some 
parts of our higher education, e.g., the Public Schools, appear as that 
which is most definitely English in character. The Public Schools, 
however, form no part of the system of public (i.e. of State and muni- 
cipal) education and are not directly associated with it. 

The reasons are fairly obvious. Many of the Public Schools are 
centuries old; our public system began but fifty vears ago. The Act of 
1870 gave us only public elementary schools. More than thirty years 
elapsed before we had the beginnings of a system of secondary schools. 
Even to-day, with the comprehensive Act of 1918, whose primary 
object is to establish a national system of education, the Public Schools. 
owing largely to the fact that the Act is administered by 318 Local 
Education Authorities, retain a ‘ non-local’ character. 

The Public Schools of England have no parallel. They have their 
defects and their critics; but they have had a paramount influence on 
the intellectual and social life of the country. They are admired less 
for the intellectual severity of the class-room than for their traditions, 
their form of self-government, and as training places of a generous 
spirit. In the past the Public Schools in the education of the aristocracy 
achieved a national purpose. They were the nurseries of English 
thought and action. Now that the predominant power in the State 
has passed to the nation as a whole, it would only be in keeping with 
their long-cherished traditions if the Public Schools were to seek a 
share in the education of democracy. Moreover, the problems of Local 
Education Authorities are of such absorbing interest that the profes- 
sional svirit of the Public Schoolmaster must be longing to assist in 
their solution, 

The two older Universities have had a history, and have borne a 
part in the national life, analogous to, but on a much larger scale than, 
the Public Schools. They also are ‘ non-local’: they serve the Empire. 
The newer Universities are much more local in character. Yet as a 
whole it can hardly be said that they exercise an important influence 
on the work of the Local Education Authorities. I am not overlooking 
the fact that the Universities, like the Public Schools, play their own 


part in providing the most advanced education; nor that they place 
their best at the disposal of the Local Education Authorities’ scholars 
and contribute a part of the teaching staff. I am, however, to-day 
suggesting a closer association with Local Education Authorities, and of 
bringing to bear more immediately on local and public education the 
wealth of their long experience and the riches of their accumulated 

There is a third group of institutions which have had a large 
share in English education, I refer to the endowed Grammar Schools. 
Partly of choice, partly through stress of circumstances, many of 
these schools have joined forces with the Local Education Authorities. 
With the recent rapid growth in the cost of maintenance and with in- 
adequacy of other sources of income they have received ‘aid’ from 
the Authority. Some have. become municipal schools: others have 
undertaken to bear their share in local work, but have retained their 
individuality of character and independence of Government, to both of 
which they are passionately attached. All have contributed much to 
the general storehouse of ideas, and the local system has been enriched 
by the co-operation of forces of different origin, methods, and historical 
significance, — 

All three groups of institutions were founded by the few whose spirit 
in so far as it sought the spread of education has now passed to the 
multitude. They are ali national institutions, but, with the exceptions 
to which I have referred, they form no part of the national system 
administered by Local Education Authorities and supervised by the 
Board of Education. I do not, of course, suggest control. That is 
obviously impossible in the case of two of the groups. Nor am I 
to-day thinking of making constructive proposals as to the forms of 
associations. Such proposals will, I hope, be put forward later in the 
week. For the moment it will be sufficient to add that the association 
desired is direct and close rather than indirect and remote, and in 
teaching rather than in administration. 

There is one further group which I cannot pass in silence: the 
priyate schools. Each Local Education Authority must, under Section 1 
of the Act of 1918, submit a scheme for the progressive and compre- 
hensive organisation of education within its area. Presumably, each 
Local Education Authority will include the local ‘places’ in efficient 
private schools as part of the accommodation already provided in the 
area. All such efficient private schools, whether run for private profit 
or not, reduce the provision to be made by the Authority. To the 
extent to which they relieve the burden on the Authority they are 
therefore contributing to the public service. In return the Authority, 
while it cannot financially assist schools conducted for private profit, 
can confer advantages through close association with its organisation. 
All. private schools doing local work, at all events all which claim to 
be efficient, would therefore serve their own interests and render public 
seryice by entering into communication with the Authority and getting 
the lines of local co-operation satisfactorily adjusted. 


It would not be possible to exhaust the possibilities of co-operation of 
voluntary endeavour with the public system, even if my whole paper 
had been devoted to this subject. JI am anxious, however, to carry 
my suggestions one step further. It is of the essence of voluntary 
effort that it is constantly evolving new forms. 1n most large towns 
within the last ten years Care Committees have been established, some 
merely to assist the Authorities in carrying out the more social powers 
and duties conferred on them by the Act; others with the higher 
ambition of ‘building up the homes.’ Such Care Committees have 
rendered a great service to their areas not only in work actually done 
under the direction of the Authority, but in the fact that they have 
frequently introduced new and opposite points of view from those of 
the administration. The Act of 1918 offers wider opportunities, and 
many social workers are beginning to realise it. During the last 
twelve months, in connection with the establishment of Day Continua- 
tion Schools, I have met in consultation, or addressed meetings, of 
social workers, trades-union representatives, club leaders, employers, 
clergy of various denominations, and parents; together and separately. 
I have met with opposition and criticism and divergent points of view, 
but what has gratified me most has been the general and eager desire 
for an increase in educational facilities and an improvement in social 
conditions. No subject for discussion has been so well received as that 
of training our young workers to use their leisure wisely. There has 
been the fullest recognition that all must join up in the common task ; 
that the greatest opportunity of our time for joint endeavour in a wider 
educational effort has come; to miss it would be something in the 
nature of a betrayal of our several functions. If our continuation 
schools are to become national, not only in the sense of being universal 
and comprehensive, but in the generous nature of the spirit which 
inspires them, all that is best in our trade, social, and sports organisa- 
tions must be brought to bear on their external and internal activities. 
On this ground alone I feel sure that there was general satisfaction 
that the guidance of the Juvenile Organisation Committees, and al! 
that they stand for, was transferred from the Home Office, which has 
the great credit of having consolidated them, to the Board of Education, 
which is the official foster-mother of our educational system. In the 
London area the Juvenile Organisation Committees have gradually be- 
come representative in the widest sense of all social organisations, 
and it is anticipated that before long lines of co-operation with the 
Authority will be established. 'The task in all areas is so large that 
there is ample room for all; it is so complex that there is need for all 
and it is of such importance to the future that it would be a national 
misfortune not to welcome the service of all. 

It is difficult for this generation to estimate with true insight the 
after-effects of the war. But it would seem as if there had rarely been 
a time when the minds of men were so much loosened from great 
principles. Such a condition is no doubt partly a reaction from a 
period of tense anxiety in which suppression of the individual and 
sacrifice for the community were the demands of a struggle for existence. 
But the general mental attitude may also be a reaction, accentuated by the 

L.— EDUCATION. | 199 

war, against the interpretation of the great principles which has hitherto 
directed us, to continue to deserve universal adherence. The outlook is 
yet clouded. Will the present individualistic point of view continue, or 
are we but being carried through a transition phase until the coming 
of a new rallying cry which will restate the brotherhood of man in 
some new and captivating form? However that may be, our course 
seems clear: it is to develop the intelligence and the spirit of social 
. service in our whole population in complete confidence that the solidity 
of the English character fortified with such weapons will maintain and 
expand that civilisation which has brought us so far, and which we 
owe it to posterity to hand on not only unimpaired, but broadened and 
deepened by new streams of thought and action. It is in this sense that 
the. spread of educational advantages is the hope of all, and that I 
have made this appeal for all educational and social forces to concen- 
trate in one national effort. In the words of one of our greatest poets: 

Give all thou canst—high Heaven rejects the lore 
Of nicely calculated less or more. 





Intensive Culitvation. 

THERE is, so far as I can discoyer, no reason—save one—why I 
should have been called upon to assume the presidency of the Agri- 
cultural Section of the British Association, or why I should have been 
temerarious enough to accept so high an honour and such a heavy load 
of responsibility. For upon the theme of Agriculture as commonly 
understood I could speak, were I to speak at all, but as a scribe and 
not as one in authority. The one reason, however, which must have 
directed the makers of presidents in their present choice is, I believe, 
so cogent that despite my otherwise unworthiness I dared not refuse 
the invitation. It is that, in appointing me, agriculturists desired to 
indicate the brotherhood which they feel with intensive cultivators. As 
properly proud sisters of an improved tale they have themselves issued 
an invitation to the Horticultural Cinderella to attend their party, and 
in conformity with present custom, which requires each lady to bring 
her partner, I am here as her friend. 

Nor could any invitation give me greater pleasure: for my devotion 
to Horticulture is profound and my affection that of a lover. My only 
fear is lest I should weary my hosts with her praises, for in conformity 
with this interpretation I propose to devote my Address entirely to 
Horticulture—to speak of its performance during the war and of its 
immediate prospects. 

Although that which intensive cultivators accomplished during the 
war is small in comparison with the great work performed by British 
agriculturists, yet nevertheless it is in itself by no means incon- 
siderable, and is, moreover, significant and deserves a brief record. 
That work may have turned and probably did turn the scale between 
scarcity and sufficiency; for, as I am informed, a difference of 10 per 
cent. in food supplies is enough to convert plenty into dearth. Seen 
from this standpoint the war-work accomplished by the professional 
horticulturist—the nurseryman, the florist, the glass-house cultivator, 
the fruit-grower and market gardener, and by the professional and 
amateur gardener and allotment holder assumes a real importance, 
albeit that the sum-total of the acres they cultivated is but a fraction 
of the land which agriculturists put under the plough. 


As a set-off against the relative smallness of the acreage brought 
during the war under intensive cultivation for food purposes, it is to be 
pemembered that the yields per acre obtained by intensive cultivators 
are remarkably high. For example, skilled onion-growers compute 
their average yield at something less than 5 tons to the acre. A 
chrysanthemum-grower who turned his resources from the production 
of those flowers to that of onions obtained over an area of several acres 
a yield of 17 tons per acre. The average yield of potatos 
under farm conditions in England and Wales is a little over 6 tons to 
the acre, whereas the army gardeners in France produced, from Scotch 
seed of Arran Chief which was sent to them, crops of 14 tons to 
the acre. Needless to say, such a rate of yield as this is not remarkable 
when compared with that obtained by potato-growers in the 
Lothians or in Lincolnshire, but it is nevertheless noteworthy as an 
indication of what I think may be accepted as a fact, that the average 
yields from intensive cultivation are about double those achieved by 
extensive methods. 

The reduction of the acreage under soft fruits—strawberries, rasp- 
berries, currants, and gooseberries—which took place during the 
war gives some measure of the sacrifices—partly voluntary, partly 
involuntary—made by fruit-growers to the cause of war-food produc- 
tion. The total area under soft fruits was 55,560 acres in 19138, 
by 1918 it had become 42,415, a decrease of 13,145 acres, or about 
24 per cent. As would be expected, the reduction was greatest in the 
case of strawberries, the acreage of which fell from 21,692 in 1913 to 
13,143 in 1918, a decrease of 8,549 acres, or about 40 per cent. It is 
unfortunate that bad causes often have best propagandas, for were the 
public made aware of such facts as these they would realise that the 
present high prices of soft fruits are of the nature of deferred premiums 
on war-risk insurances with respect to which the public claims were 
paid in advance and in full. 

I should add that the large reduction of the strawberry acreage is a 
measure no less of the short-sightedness of officials than of the public 
spirit of fruit-growers; for in the earlier years of the war many 
counties issued compulsory orders requiring the grubbing up and 
restriction of planting of fruit, and I well remember that one of my 
first tasks as Controller of Horticulture was to intervene with the object 
of convincing the enthusiasts of corn production that, in war, some 
peace-time luxuries become necessaries and that, to a sea-girt island 

beset by submarines, home-grown fruit most certainly falls into this 

Those who were in positions of responsibility at that time will not 
readily forget the shifts to which they were put to secure and preserye 
supplies of any sorts of fruit which could be turned into jam—the 
collection of blackberries, the installation of pulping factories which 
Mr. Martin and I initiated, and the rushing of supplies of scarcely set 
jam to great towns, the populace of which, full of a steadfast fortitude 
in the face of military misfortune, was ominously losing its sweetness 
of disposition owing to the absence of jam and the dubiousness of the 
supply and quality of margarine. 


But though the public lost in one direction it gained in another, 
and the reduction of the soft-fruit acreage meant—reckoned in terms of 
potatos—an augmentation of supplies to the extent of over 100,000 
tons. Equally notable was the contribution to food production made 
by the florists and nurserymen in response to our appeals. An indication 
of their effort is supplied by figures which, as president of the British 
Florists’ Federation, Mr. George Munro—whose invaluable work for 
food production deserves public recognition—caused to be collected. 
They relate to the amount of food production undertaken by 100 leading 
florists and nurserymen. These men put 1,075 acres, out of a total of 
1,775 acres used previously for flower-growing, to the purpose of food 
production, and they put 142 acres of glass out of a total of 218 acres 
to like use. I compute that their contribution amounted to considerably 
more than 12,000 tons of potatos and 5,000 tons of tomatos. 

The market growers of Evesham and other districts famous for inten- 
sive cultivation also did their share by substituting for luxury crops, 
such as celery, those of greater food value, and even responded to our 
appeals to increase the acreage under that most chancy of crops—the 
onion, by laying down an additional 4,000 acres and thereby doubling 
a crop which more than any other supplies accessory food substances 
to the generality of the people. 

In this connection the yields of potatos secured by Germany and 
this country during the war period are worthy of scrutiny. 

The pre-war averages were: Germany 42,450,000 tons, United 
Kingdom 6,950,000 tons; and the figures for 1914 were: Germany 
41,850,000 tons, United Kingdom 7,476,000 tons. 

Germany’s supreme effort was made in 1915 with a yield of 
49,570,000 tons, or about 17 per cent. above average. In that year our 
improvement was only half as good as that of Germany: our erop of 
7,540,000 tons bettering our average by only 8 per cent. In 1916 
weather played havoc with the crops in both countries, but Germany 
suffered most. The yield fell to 20,550,000 tons, a decrease of more 
than 50 per cent., whilst our yield was down to 5,469,000 tons, a 
falling off of only 20 per cent. In the following year Germany could 
produce no more than 39,500,000 tons, or a 90 per cent. crop, whereas 
the United Kingdom raised 8,604,000 tons, or about 24 per cent. better 
than the average. Finally, whereas with respect to the 1918 crop in 
Germany no figures are available, those for the United Kingdom indi- 
cate that the 1917 crop actually exceeded that of 1918. 

There is much food for thought in these figures, but my immediate 
purpose in citing them is to claim that of the million and three-quarter 
tons increase in 1917 and 1918 a goodly proportion must be put to the 
éredit of the intensive cultivator. 

I regret that no statistics are available to illustrate the war-time food 
production by professional and amateur gardeners. That it was great 
I know, but how great I am unable to say. This, however, I can 
state, that from the day before the outbreak of hostilities, when, with 
the late Secretary of the Royal Horticultural Society, I started the in- 
tensive food-production campaign by urging publicly the autumn sowing 
of vegetables—a practice both then and now insufficiently followed—the 


amateur and professional gardeners addressed themselves to the work 
of producing food with remarkable energy and success. No less remark- 
able and successful was the work of the old and new allotment holders, 
so much so indeed that at the time of the Armistice there were nearly 
a million and a-half allotment holders cultivating upwards of 125,000 
acres of land: an allotment for every five households in England and 
Wales. It is a pathetic commentary on the Peace that Vienna should 
find itself obliged to do now what was done here during the war— 
namely, convert its parks and open spaces into allotments in order to 
supplement a meagre food supply. 

This brief review of war-time intensive cultivation would be in- 
complete were it to contain no reference to intensive cultivation by the 
armies at home and abroad. From small beginnings, fostered by the 
distribution by the Royal Horticultural Society of supplies of vegetable 
seeds and plants to the troops in France, army cultivation assumed 
under the direction of Lord Harcourt’s Army Agricultural Committee 
extraordinarily large dimensions: a bare summary must suffice here, 
but a full account may be found in the report presented by the Com- 
mittee to the Houses of Parliament and published as a Parliamentary 

Th 1918 the armies at home cultivated 5,869 acres of vegetables. In 
the summer of that year the camp and other gardens of our armies in 
France were producing 100 tons of vegetables a day. These gardens 
yielded, in 1918, 14,000 tons of vegetables, worth, according to my 
estimate, a quarter of a million pounds sterling, but worth infinitely 
more if measured in terms of benefit to the health of the troops. 

As the result of General Maude’s initiative, the forces in Meso- 
potamia became great gardeners, and in 1918 produced 800 tons of 
vegetables, apart altogether from the large cultivations carried out by 
His Majesty’s Forces in that wonderfully fertile land. In the same 
year the forces at Salonika had about 7,000 acres under agricultural and 
horticultural crops, and raised produce which effected a saving of over 
50,000 shipping tons. 

Even from this brief record it will, I believe, be conceded that 
intensive cultivation played a useful and significant part in the war: 
what, it may be asked, is the part which it is destined to play in the 
future? So far as I am able to learn, there exist in this country two 
schools of thought or opinion on the subject of the prospects 
of intensive cultivation, the optimistic and the pessimistic school. 
The former sees visions of large communities of small cultivators 
colonising the countryside of England, increasing and multiplying both 
production and themselves, a numerous, prosperous and happy people 
and a sure shield in time of war against the menace of submarines and 
starvation. Those on the other hand who take the pessimistic view, 
point to the many examples of smallholders who ‘ plough with pain 
their native lea and reap the labour of their hands’ with remarkably 
small profit to themselves or to the community—smallholders like 
those in parts of Warwickshire, who can just manage by extremely 
hard labour to maintain themselves, or like those in certain districts of 
Norfolk, who have let their holdings tumble down into corn and who’ 


produce no more and indeed less to the acre than do the large farmers 
who are their neighbours. 

Before making any attempt to estimate the worth of these rival 
opinions it may be observed that the war has brought a large reinforce- 
ment of strength to the rank of the optimists. A contrast of personal 
experiences illustrates this fact. When in the early days of the war 
I felt it my duty to consult certain important county officials with the 
object of securing their support for schemes of intensive food production, 
1 carried away from the conference one conclusion only: that the 
counties of England were of two kinds, those which were already doing 
much and were unable therefore to do more, and those which were 
doing little because there was no more to be done. In spite of this close 
application of the doctrine of Candide—that all is for the best in the 
best of all possible worlds—I was able to set up some sort of county 
horticultural organisation, scrappy, amateurish, but enthusiastic, and 
the work done by that organisation was on the average good; so much 
so indeed that when after the Armistice I sought to build up a per- 
manent county horticultural organisation I was met by a changed 
temper. The schemes which the staff of the Horticultural Division had 
elaborated as the result of experience during the war were received 
and adopted with a cordiality which I like to think was evoked no less 
by the excellence of the schemes themselves than by the promise of 
liberal financial assistance in their execution. Thus it came about that 
when the time arrived for me to hand over the controllership of Horti- 
culture to my successor, almost every county had established a strong 
County Horticultural Committee, and the chief counties from the point 
of view of intensive cultivation had provided themselves with. a staff 
competent to demonstrate not only to cottagers and allotment holders, 
but also to smallholders and commercial growers, the best methods of 
intensive cultivation. In the most important counties horticultural 
superintendents with knowledge of commercial fruit-growing were being 
appointed, and demonstration fruit and market-garden plots, designed 
on lines laid down by Captain Wellington and his expert assistants, 
were in course of establishment. The detailed plans for these links 
in a national chain of demonstration and trial plots haye been published, 
and anyone who will study them will, I believe, recognise that they 
point the way to the successful development of a national system of 
intensive cultivation. 

By means of these county stations the local cultivator may learn 
how to plant and maintain his fruit plantation and how to crop his 
vegetable quarters, what stock to run and what varieties to grow. 

Farm stations—with the Research stations established previously 
by the Ministry ; Long Ashton and East Malling for fruit investigations ; 
the Lea Valley Growers’ Association and Rothamstead for investigation 
of soil problems and pathology; the Imperial College of Science for 
research in plant physiology, together with a couple of stations, con- 
templated before the war, for local investigation of vegetable cultiya- 
tion; an alliance with the Royal Horticultural Society’s Research 
Station at Wisley, and with the John Innes Horticultural Institute for 
research in genetics; the Ormskirk Potato Trial Station; a Poultry 


Tnstitute ; and, most important of all from the point of view of educa- 
tion, the establishment at Cambridge of a School of Horticulture—con- 
stitute a horticultural organisation which, if properly co-ordinated and— 
dare I say it?—directed, should prove of supreme value to all classes 
of intensive cultivators. To achieve that result, however, something 
more than a permissive attitude on the part of the Ministry is required, 
and in completing the design of it I had hoped also to remain a part 
of that organisation long enough to assist in securing its functioning as 

a living, plastic, resourceful, directive force—a horticultural cerebrum. 
Thus developed, it is my conviction that this instrument is capable of 
bringing Horticulture to a pitch of perfection undreamed of at the present 
time either in this country or elsewhere. 

In my view Horticulture has suffered in the past because the foster- 
ing of it was only incidental to the work of the Ministry. In spite of 
the fact that it had not a little to be grateful for—as for example the 
research stations to which I have referred—Horticulture had been 
regarded rather as an agricultural side-show than as a thing in itself. 
My intention, in which I was encouraged by Lord Ernle, Lord Lee, 
and Sir Daniel Hall, was to peg out on behalf of Horticulture a large 
and valid claim and to work that claim. The conception of Horticulture 
which I entertained was that comprised in the ‘ petite culture’ of the 
French. It included crops and stock, fruit and vegetables, flower and 
bulb ana seed crops, potatos, pigs and poultry and bees. [I held 
the view, and still hold it, that the small man’s interests cannot be 
fostered by the big man’s care; that Horticulture is a thing in itself 
and requires constant consideration by horticulturists and not occasional 
help from agriculturally minded people, however distinguished and 

I had to include the pig and poultry, for the smallholder and 
commercial grower will have to keep the one and may with profit 
keep both, and he will have to modify his system of cultivation accord- 
ingly. The adoption of this conception of the scope of intensive culti- 
vation opens up an array of new problems which require investigation, 
and it was my intention to endeavour to secure the experimental solu- 
tion of these many problems at the Research Stations and elsewhere. 
Beside these problems—of green manuring, cropping, horticultural 
rotations—horticultural surveys would be made, ‘ primeur’ lands 
demarked for colonisation. and existing orchard lands ascertained and 
classified, as indeed we had begun to do in the West of England. 
But. above all, with this measure of independence for Horticulture we, 
having the good will and support of the fraternity of horticulturists, 
aimed at putting to the test the certain belief which I hold that education 
—sympathetic and systematic—is an instrument the power of which, 
for our purpose. scarcely vet tried, is in fact of almost infinite potency. 
I believe with Mirabean that, ‘ after bread, education is the first need 
‘of thé people,’ and I know that the people themselves are ready to 
receive it. 

Contrast this horticultural prospect with the fast that a group of 
smallholders in an outlying district informed one of my inspectors that 


his was the first visit that they had received for many years, or with 
the fact that remediable diseases are still rife in hundreds of gardens, 
or that few small growers understand the principles which should guide 
them in deciding whether or not to spray their potatos, or that West 
Country orchardists exist who let dessert fruit tumble to the ground 
and sell it in ignorance of its true value, or that unthrifty fruit-trees 
may be top-grafted but are not, or that it is often ignored that arsenate 
of lead as a spray fluid for fruit pays over and over again for its use, 
or even that growers in plenty still do not know that Scotch or Irish 
or once-grown Lincolnshire seed potatos are generally more profitable 
than is home-grown or local seed. The truth is that great skill and 
sure knowledge exist among small cultivators side by side with much 
ignorance and moderate practical ability. Herein lies the opportunity 
of the kind of education which I have in mind. But for any such 
intensive system of education to prevail the isolation both of cultivators 
and of Government Departments must be abolished. Out of that isola- 
tion hostility arises, in which medium no seed of education will 
germinate. It is troublesome, but not difficult, to abolish hostility. 
It vanishes when direct relations are established and maintained between 
a Department and those whose affairs jt administers. The paternal 
method will not do it. The official life, lived ‘ remote, unfriendly, 
alone,’ with only underlings as missionaries to the heathen public, 
will not do it. 

There is only one way to prepare the ground for the intensive 
cultivation of education, and that is to secure the full co-operation of 
officials and cultivators. If this be not done the official must continue 
to bear with resignation the unconcealed hostility of those he wishes 
to assist. That a state of confidence and co-operation may be esta- 
blished is proved by the record of the Horticultural Advisory Committee 
which was set up by Lord Ernle during my controllership. The Com- 
mittee consisted of representatives of all the many branches of Horti- 
culture—fruit-growers, nurserymen, market gardeners, growers under 
glass, salesmen, researchers, and so forth. That Committee became, 
as it were, the Deputy-Controller of Horticulture. To it all large ques- 
tions of policy were referred, and to its disinterested service Horticulture 
owes a great debt. That its existence has been rendered permanent 
by Lord Lee is of good augury for the future of intensive cultivation. 
As an instance of the judicial temper in which this Committee attended 
to its business I may mention that when an Order—the Silver Leaf 
Order—was under discussion the only objection to its terms on the 
part of the fruit-growers on the Committee was that the restrictive 
measures which it contemplated were not drastic enough: a noteworthy 
example of assent to a self-denying ordinance. 

It may be asked What are the subjects in which growers require 
education? To answer that question: fully would require an Address in 
itself. Among those subjects, however, mention may be made of. a 
few: the extermination or top-grafting of unthrifty fruit, the proper 
spacing and pruning of fruit-trees, the use of suitable stocks, -sys- 
tematic orchard-spraying, the use of thrifty varieties of bush fruit and 
the proper manuring thereof, the choice of varieties suitable to given 



soils and districts and for early cropping, the better grading and packing 
of fruit. 

Of all methods of instruction in this last subject the best is that 
provided by Fruit Exhibitions. Those interested in the promotion of 
British fruit-growing will well remember the object-lesson in good and 
bad packing provided by the first Eastern Counties Fruit Show, held 
afi Cambridge in 1919. That exhibition, organised by the East Anglian 
fruit-growers with the assistance of the Horticultural Division of the 
Ministry of Agriculture, demonstrated three things: first, that fruit of 
the finest quality is being grown in Hast Anglia; second, that ‘this 
district may perhaps become the largest fruit-growing region in Eng- 
land; and, third, that among many growers profound ignorance exists 
with respect to the preparation of fruit for market. 

The opinions which I have endeavoured to express on the organisa- 
tion of intensive cultivation may be summarised thus :— 

1. The object of the organisation is to improve local and general 
cultivation, the former by demonstration, the latter by research. 

2. The method of organisation must provide for co-operation between 
the horticultural officers of the State and the persons engaged in the 
industry. ‘This co-operation must be real and complete. Dummy 
Committees are silly devices adopted merely by second-rate men and 
merely clever administrators. The co-operation must embrace the policy 
as well as the practice of administration. Nevertheless the horti- 
cultural officers of the State must be leaders. They can, however, lead 
only by the power of knowledge. Wherefore an administrator who 
lacks practical knowledge and scientific training is not qualified to act 
as the executive head of a horticultural administration. The head 
must of course possess administrative capacity, but this form of 
ability is by no means uncommon among Britons, although it is a 
custom to represent it as something akin to inspiration and the attribute 
of the otherwise incompetent. The directing head must possess a wide 
practical knowledge of Horticulture; that alone can fire the train of 
his imagination to useful and great issues. His right-hand man, how- 
ever, must be one versed in departmental and interdepartmental intrica- 
cies—the best type of administrator—of sober and cool judgment and 
keen intelligence, unused perhaps to enthusiasm, but not intolerant of 
nor immune from it. Similarly in each sub-department for cultivation, 
disease-prevention, small stock, &c., the head must be a trained prac- 
tical man with an administrator as his chief assistant. The outdoor 
officers, the intelligence officers of the organisation, must also be men 
of sound and wide practical knowledge and must know that their 
reports will be read by someone who understands the subjects whereof 
they speak. 

It was on these lines that the Horticultural Division was organised 
under Lord Ernle, Lord Lee, and Sir Daniel Hall. The work accom- 
plished justified the innovation. 

_ This is the contribution which I feel it my duty to make on the 
vexed question of the relation between expert and administrator in 
Departments of State which deal with technical and vital problems. 


I believe that no administrator, save the rare genius, can direct the 


expert, whereas the expert with trained scientific mind and possessed 
of a fair measure of administrative ability can direct any but a génius 
for administration. If the work of a Government office is to be and 
remain purely administrative no creative capacity is required, and it 
may be left in the sure and safe and able hands of the trained adminis- 
trator; but if the work is to be creative it must be under the direction 
of minds turned as only research can turn them—in the direction of 
creativeness. To the technically initiated initiation is easy and attrac- 
tive, to the uninitiated it is difficult and repugnant. 

The useful work that such a staff as I have indicated would find 
to do is well-nigh endless. It would become a bureau of information 
in national horticulture. and the knowledge which it acquired would be 
of no less use to investigators than to the industry. Diseases ravage 
our orchards and gardens, some are known to be remediable and yet 
persist, others require immediate and vigorous team-wise investiga- 
tion and yet continue to be investigated by solitary workers or single 
research institutions. 

Certain new varieties of some soft fruits are known to be better 
than the older varieties, and yet the latter continue to be widely culti- 
vated. The transport and distribution of perishable fruit is often in- 
adequate—‘ making a famine where abundance lies.’ The informa- 
tion gathered in during the constant survey of the progress of Horticul- 
ture would serve not only to direct educational effort into useful channels. 
but to stimulate and assist research. For the headquarters staff of 
trained men learns in the course of its administrative work many things, 
which, albeit unknown to the researcher, are of first importance to him 
who is bent on advancing horticultural knowledge. 

For example, it is known that the trade of raisers of seed potatos 
for export to Jersey or Spain is in some places menaced by the presence 
of a plot of land a mile or two away in which wart disease has appeared. 
It may be that the outbreak occurred on only a single plant, yet never- 
theless the seed-potato grower may be inhibited from exporting the 
seed grown by him on clean land. The prohibition is just, but the man 
who refuses to issue a licence to export, if he be a trained horticulturist 
in touch with research, will know that there is research work to hand 
and that immediately, and will bring the problem to the urgent notice 
of the researchers. Thus the scientifically trained administrator be- 
comes, although not himself witty in research, the cause of wit in 
others. To ask the researcher, who must inevitably be to some extent 
like Prospero ‘ wrapt in secret studies and to the State grown stranger,’ 
to discover problems which arise out of administrative embarrassments 
is unreasonable ; on the other hand. the scientifically trained administra- 

tor acts naturally as liaison officer between the laboratory and the land, — 
passing on the problems which arise out of administrative necessities — 

or expedients. 
In this connection it is interesting to recall the fact that the im- 

portance of the existence of varietiés of potatos immune from wart 

disease was observed years ago by an officer of the Ministry, Mr. Gough, 

who is also a man possessed of a scientific training, and I believe ~ 
also that I am right in saying that either this officer or another suggested — 


long ago that the clue to the spread of wart disease in England was 
to be sought in the potato fields of Scotland. Mr. Taylor will, I hope, 
give us the latest and most interesting chapter in the story of wart 
disease, and I will not therefore spoil his story by anticipation of its 

The tacit assumption which has so far underlain my Address is that 
an extension of intensive cultivation in this country is desirable. I 
have indicated that areas are to be discovered where soil and climate 
are favourable to this form of husbandry, and that by the establishment 
of a proper form of research—administrative—and educational organisa- 
tion the already high standard reached by intensive cultivators may be 
surpassed. It remains to inquire whether any large increase in the 
area under intensive cultivation is in fact either desirable or probable. 

The dispassionate inquirer will find his task by no means easy. 
He should, as a preliminary, endeavour to discern in the present welter 
of cosmic disturbance what are likely to be the economic conditions of 
the politician’s promised land—the new world which was to be created 
from the travail of war. In the first place, and no matter how academic 
he may be, he cannot fail to recognise the fact that costs of production. 
including labour, are at least twice and probably 24 times those of 
pre-war days, and he must assume that the increase is permanent and 
not unlikely to augment. What this means to the different forms of 
cultivation may be judged from the following estimates of capital costs 
of cultivation of different kinds :— 

Labour and Capital for Farming and Intensive Cultivation. 

Labour per 100 Capital per Acre 

sures Pre-War Present 
Men™ £ £ 
Mixed Farming : ’ : "3-577 10 20-25 
Fruit and Vegetable growing f 20-30 50 100-125 
Intensive Cultivation in the open 200 750 ~1,500-1,875" 
(French Gardening) AT 
Cultivation under glass. ‘ 200-300 2,000 |"4,000-5,000 

In the second place the inquirer is bound to assume that the inten- 
sive cultivator of the future, like his predecessor in the past, will have 
to be prepared to face the competition of the world. He may, I believe, 
look for no artificial restriction of imports, and therefore he must be 
prepared to find that higher costs of production will not necessarily 
be accompanied by increased receipts for intensively cultivated com- 

But, on the other hand, he may find some comfort in the fact that 
both immediately before and, still more, subsequently to the war, 
the standard of living both in this country and throughout the world 
was, and is still, rising. Hence he may perhaps expect a less severe 
competition from foreign growers and also a better market at home. 

He may also derive comfort from the reflection that the increased 
cost of production which he must bear must also, perhaps in no less 

1920 P 


measure, be borne by his foreign competitors. Even before the war 
the cost of production of one of the chief horticultural crops—apples— 
was no higher in this country than in that of our main competitors. 
There are also certain other apparently minor but really important 
reasons for optimism with regard to the prospects of intensive cultiva- 
tion. Among these is the increasing use of road in lieu of rail 
transport for the marketing of horticultural produce. The advantages 
of motor over rail transport for the carriage of perishable produce for 
relatively short distances—say up to 75 miles from market—lie in its 
greater punctuality, economy of handling, and elasticity. Only a poet 
native of a land of orchards could have written the lines: ‘ When T 
consider everything that grows holds in perfection but a single moment.’ 
Fruit crops ripen rapidly and more or less simultaneously throughout a 
given district. They must be put on the market forthwith or are 
useless. A train service, no matter how well organised, does not seem 
able to cope with gluts, and hence it arises that a season of abundance 
in the country rarely means a Jike plenty to the consumer. I am aware 
that the problem of gluts is by no means simple and that the railways 
are sometimes blamed unjustly for failing to cope with them, but 
nevertheless I believe that, as Kent has discovered, the motor-lorry 
will be more and more called in to redress the balance between the 
home growers and the foreign producers in favour of the former; for 
by its use the goods can be delivered with certainty in time to catch 
the market and thus give the home producer the advantage due to 
propinquity which should be his. Increasing knowledge of food values, 
together with the general rise in the standard of living, also present 
features of good augury to the intensive cultivator. Jam and tomatos 
and primeurs may be taken as texts. 

In 1914 the consumption of jam in the United Kingdom amounted 
to about a spoonful a day per person. The more exact figures are 
2 oz. per week, or 126,000 tons per annum. 

It is difficult to estimate the area under jam fruit—plums, straw- 
berry, raspberry, currants, &c.—required to produce this tonnage, but 
it may be put at between 10,000 and 20,000 acres. 

By 1918, thanks to the wisdom of the Army authorities in insisting 
on a large ration of jam for the troops, and thanks also to the scarcity 
and quality of margarine, the consumption of jam had more than 
doubled. From 126,000 tons of 1914 it reached 340,000 tons in 1918. 
To supply this ration would require the produce of from 25,000 to 
50,000 acres of orchard, which in turn would directly employ the labour 
of say from 5,000 to 10,000 men. ‘Yet even the tonnage consumed 
in 1918 only allows a meagre ration of little more than a couple of 
spoonfuls a day. It may therefore be anticipated that if, as is probable, 
albeit only because of the immanence of margarine, the new-found public — 
taste for jam endures, fruit-growers in this country will find a con- 
siderable and profitable extension in supplying this demand. 

The remarkable increase in ‘consumption which the tomato has 
achieved would seem to support this conclusion. Fifty years ago, as 
Mr. Robbins has mentioned in his paper on ‘ Intensive Cultivation ’ 
(Journal of Board of Agriculture, xxy. No. 12, March 1919), this 


fruit was all but unused as a food. To-day one district alone, the Lea 
Valley, produces 30,000 tons per annum. The total production in 
this country amounts to upwards of 45,000 tons. Yet the demand for 
tomatos has increased so rapidly—the appetite growing by what it 
feeds upon—that the imports in 1913 from the Channel Islands, 
Holland, France, Portugal, Spain, Canary Islands, and Italy amounted 
to nearly double the home crop, viz. 80,000 tons, making the total 
annual consumption not less than 14 tons or about 2 pounds per week 
per head of population. Is it too fanciful to discern in this rapidly 
growing increase in the consumption of such accessory foodstuffs as jam 
and tomatos, not merely an indication of a general rise in the standard 
of living and a desire on the part of the community as a whole to share 
in the luxuries of the rich, but also a sign that in a practical, instinctive, 
unconscious way the public has discovered simultaneously with the 
physiologists that a monotonous diet means malnutrition, and that even 
in a dietetic sense man cannot live by bread alone? As lending support 
to this fancy and as indicating that the value of vitamines was dis- 
covered by people before vitamines were discovered by physiologists, 
I may mention the curious fact that the general public has always shown 
a wise greediness for an accessory food which, though relatively poor 
in calories is rich in vitamines—namely the onion. Even in pre-war 
times the annual value of imported onions amounted to well over one 
million pounds sterling; and, when the poverty of the winter diet of 
the people of England and Wales is considered, it must be admitted 
that this expenditure represented a sound investment on the part of 
the British public. It is a curious fact also that the genius of Nelson 
led him to alike conclusion. He took care, during the long years when 
his blockading fleet kept the seas, to provide his sailors with plenty of 
exercise and onions. ; 

If, as I think, the increasing consumption of the accessory foods 
which intensive cultivation provides represents not merely a craving 
for luxuries, but an instinctive demand for the so-called accessory food 
bodies which are essential to health, then it may be expected that, as 
has been illustrated in the case of jam and tomatos, consumption will 
continue to increase. If this be so, the demand both for fresh fruit 
and also for ‘ primeurs ’—early vegetables—should grow and should 
be supplied at least in part by the intensive cultivators of this country. 

If the home producer can place his wares on the market at a price 
that can compete with imported produce—and it is not improbable that 
he will be able to do so—he need not, even with increased production, 
apprehend more loss from lack of demand than he has had to face in 
the past. Seasonal and other occasional gluts he must, of course, 

Even when judged by pre-war values, his market, as indicated bv 
imports, is a capacious one. Thus in 1913 the imports into the United 
Kingdom of soil products from smallholdings were of the value of 
about 50 million pounds sterling. To-day it is safe to compute them 
at over 100 millions. To that sum—of 50 millions—imported vegetables 
contributed 54 million pounds sterling, apples 24 millions, other fruits 
nearly 3 millions, eggs and poultry over 10 millions, rabbits and rabbit- 



skins a million and a half, and bacon and pork over 22 millions. 
No one whose enthusiasm did not altogether outrun both his discretion 
and knowledge would suggest that the home producer could supply the 
whole or even the greater part of these commodities. But, on the other 
hand, few of those who have knowledge of the skill and resources of 
our intensive cultivators, and of the suitability of favoured parts of this 
country for intensive cultivation, will doubt but that a modest proportion, 
say, for example, one fifth, might be made at home. This on a post- 
war basis would amount in value to over 20 million pounds, would 
require the use of several hundred thousand acres of land and provide 
employment for something like 100,000 men. The fact that Kent has 
found it profitable to bring one-fifth of its total arable land under fruit 
and other forms of intensive cultivation is significant and a further 
indication that intensive cultivation offers real prospects to the skilful 
and industrious husbandman. The present reduced acreage under fruit, 
due partly to war conditions, but mainly to the grubbing of old orchards, 
enhances the prospects of success. 
The estimated acreage under fruit in England and Wales is :— 

Apples , ¢ é : S 5 : . 170,000 
Pears . , . 3 5 3 . : f 10,000 
Plums. 4 : * 3 : . : : 17,000 
Cherries ‘4 i i s a E . s 10,000 
Strawberries 4 : ; f 3 3 - 13,000 
Raspberries : : : : i Ae 6,000 
Currants and Gooseberries . 5 ; . 22,000 


exclusive of mixed orchards and plantations. 

These figures are, however, well-nigh useless as indicating the areas 
devoted to the intensive cultivation of fruit for direct consumption. Of 
the 170,000 acres of apples, cider fruit probably occupies not less than 
100,000, and of this area much ground is cumbered with old and 
neglected trees. Of the 10,000 acres in pears some 8,000 are devoted 
to perry production, and hence lie outside our immediate preoccupation. 
Having regard, however, to the reduction of acreage under fruit, to the 
increasing consumption of fruit and jam, and to the success which has 
attended intelligent planting in the past, it may be concluded that a 
good many thousand acres of fruit might be planted in this country with 
good prospects of success. 

Lastly, it remains to consider what results are likely to occur if © 

intensive cultivation comes to be more generally practised in this country. 

T am indebted to one of our leading growers for an example of the — 

results which have attended the conversion of an ordinary farm into 
an intensively cultivated holding. 

The farm—of 150 acres and nearly all arable—was taken over in 
1881. At that date it found regular employment for three men and 
a boy—with the usual extra help at harvest. The rate of wages paid 
to the farm hand was 15s. a week. 

In 1853, two years after the farm had been taken over and converted 


to the uses of a horticultural holding, from 20 to 25 men and 80 to 100 
women, according to season, were at work on it, and the minimum 
wage for men was 20s. per week. The holding was increased gradually 
to 310 acres, and at the present time gives employment on an average 
to 90 men and 50 women during the winter months and 110 men and 
200 women during the summer months. In 1913 the wages bill was 
7,9811., and in 1918 10,0002. per annum, that is, over 34l. per acre. 

Another concrete example of the effect of intensity of cultivation 
on density of population is provided by the comparison of two not far 
distant districts—Rutland and the Isle of Ely. ‘The rich soil and in- 
dustrious temperament of the inhabitants of the Isle have justly brought 
it prosperity and fame. ‘The Isle of Ely comprises 236,961 acres, of 
which number 170,395 are arable; Rutland 97,087 acres with 35,000 
arable. The land of Rutland is occupied by 475 persons, that of the 
Isle by 2,002; the average acreage per occupier in Rutland is 206, in 
the Isle 118. The total number of agricultural workers in Rutland is 
2,146, and in the Isle 13,382. The density of agricultural population 
in terms of total acreage is in Rutland 2.5 per 100 acres, and in the 
Isle 5.6, or 20 more cultivators to the square mile in the Isle of Ely 
than in Rutland; from which the curious may estimate the possibility 
of home colonisation by introducing as a supplement to extensive 
agriculture such an amount of intensive cultivation as may be practised 
in districts similar in climate and soil to the Isle. 

The immediate object of the comparison is to show, however, that 
the difference between the closeness of colonisation of the two lands 
is accurately presented by the difference between the acreages amenable 
to intensive cultivation which by reason of soil must, however, always 
remain relatively larger in the Isle than in Rutland. Thus in Rut- 
land the area under fruit is 204 acres, and in the Isle 7,126. If 
these areas and the workers thereon be deducted from the total 
arable in the two districts, the respective agricultural populations 
in terms of 100 acres of arable become almost identical, viz. 6.7 
for Rutland and 6.9 for the Isle. The difference of agricultural 
populations is measured by the area under intensive cultivation. 
The agricultural workers engaged on the 7,126 acres of fruit in the 
Isle of Ely are almost as numerous as those engaged in doing all the 
agricultural work of Rutland—say, about 2,000 as compared with 2,416. 

It may of course be true that a chance word, a common soldier, 
a girl at the door of an inn, have changed, or almost changed, 
the fate of nations, but it is probable that the genius of peoples 
and the pressure of economic and social forces are more potent. Is 
there then, it may be asked, any indication that the people of this 
country will seek in intensive cultivation a means of colonising their 
own land rather than continue to export their surplus man-power? 
The problem is too complex and too subtle for me to solve, but I will 
conclude by citing a curious fact which may have real significance in 
indicating that if a nation so wills it may retain its surplus population 
on the land by adjusting the intensity of its cultivation to the density of 
its population. Ifa diagram be made combining the intensity of pro- 

duction of a given erop, e.g., the potato, as grown in the chief indus- 

trial countries of the world, it will be found that the curve of production 
coincides closely with that of density of population. 

Density of Population and Intensity of Production. Potatos. 

cote, stat Yield in 

ensity of | Porontase | poreentage goin Pe 

Square Mile. | Population. , Average 


United States : : 31 10 33 1:3 
France ; 5 : 193 62 56 2:2 
Germany , ‘ ; 311 100 100 39 
U.K... : b ; 374 120 110 4:3 
England and Wales : 550 177 128 5 
Belgium : ‘ : 658 212 155 6°04 

From these facts we may take comfort, for they indicate that as:a 
population increases so does the intensity of its cultivation: the tide 
which flows into the towns may be made to ebb again into the country. 
The rate of return, however, must depend on many factors: the proclivi- 
ties of peoples, the relative attractiveness of urban and rural life and of 
life at home and abroad, but ultimately the settlement or non-settlement 
of the countryside must be determined by the degree of success of the 
average intensive cultivator. The abler man can command success; 
whether the man. of average ability and industry can achieve it, will, 
T believe, depend ultimately on education. He can look for no assistance 
in the form of restricted imports. He must be prepared to face open 
competition. Wherefore he should receive all the help which the State 
can render; and the measure of success which he, and hence the State, 
achieves will be determined ultimately by the quality and kind of 
education which he is able to obtain. 



Seismological Investigations.—Twenty-fifth Report of the Committee, 
consisting of Professor H. H. Turner (Chairman), Mr. J. J. 
Suaw (Secretary), Mr. C. Vernon Boys, Dr. J. E. Crompir, 
Sir Horace Darwin, Dr. C. Davison, Sir F. W. Dyson, SirR. T. 
GLAZEBROOK, Professors C. G. Knorr and H. Lams, Sir J. 
Larmor, Professors A. E. H. Love, H. M. Macponatp, J. Perry, 
and H. C. Puummer, Mr. W. E. Puummer, Professor R. A. 
Sampson, Sir A. ScuustTsEr, Sir Naprer Suaw, Dr. G. T. WaKer, 
and Mr. G. W. WALKER. 


Tue transference of the Milne books and apparatus from Shide to the University 
Observatory at Oxford was completed in September last. Mrs. Milne sailed 
for Japan, after some shipping delays, on September 27, and news of her safe 
arrival on November 13 has been received. The greater part of the books, 
records, cards, and the two globes for preliminary calculations are conveniently 
housed in a room in the Students’ Observatory, apart from the main building : 
the remainder of the material is for the present stored in an outbuilding. But 
by a timely benefaction of 400/. from Dr. Crombie, a small house has been 
acquired near the Observatory, of which it is hoped to get occupation in 
September, and this will easily hold all that is required, and serve at the same 
time as a dwelling for the seismological assistant. These arrangements have 
been made in accordance with the spirit of Professor Schuster’s resolution 
(quoted in the last report), offering to establish a Central Bureau at Oxford, 
which could not be exactly carried into effect at the moment owing to circum- 
stances there mentioned. Further, in pursuance of this plan, the Cambridge 
Committee entrusted with the appeal for a Geophysical Institute which should 
include Seismology, finding their appeal unsuccessful, passed the following 
resolution on March 10, 1920 :— 

it was agreed that Professor Turner should be informed that no objection 
could be taken by the Committee to a seismological station and establish- 
ment at Oxford. 

This resolution, with a letter from the Chairman of the Committee and a 
summary of other information, was next reported to the University of Oxford 
through the Board of Visitors in May last, and approved. Finally, these facts 
were reported to this Committee (B.A. Seismology) at its meeting on July 2, 
and the plan of locating the work at Oxford approved. It remains to obtain 
the funds necessary for the salary of a full-time director and for replacing the 
grants temporarily made by the British Association and the Royal Society. A 
Royal Commission is at present reviewing the finances of the Universities of 
Oxford and Cambridge, and a note has been addressed to this Commission on 
the subject of Seismology, in the first instance by the Board of Faculty of 
tag Science, supplemented by a more particular note from Professor 



The Milne-Shaw seismograph erected in the basement of the Clarendon 
Laboratory has worked well through the year. Professor Lindemann has given 
formal sanction to the arrangement, and included the basement in his general 


installation of electric light in the laboratory. This has much facilitated the 
operations of changing films, comparing clocks, &c., but the gas-jet is retained 
for the photography. The room has further been cleaned and whitewashed, ana 
an outer door has been added shutting it off from draughts. It is now a very 
convenient laboratory, and is large enough for the erection of at least one 
more machine, when one is available. 

The Milne-Shaw machine formerly erected at Eskdalemuir for direct com- 
parison with Galitzin records’ has been now transferred (on loan) to the Royal 
Observatory, Edinburgh, and readings have been received from July 4, 1919. 
The situation seems peculiarly liable to microseismic disturbance, obviously 
connected with wind. 

The instrument mounted in the ‘dug-out’ near West Bromwich has given 
some interesting results as regards these microseisms on which Mr, Shaw writes 
a special note at the end of this report. 

Various other instruments are being constructed as rapidly as present difficul- 
ties permit. 

Milne-Shaw machines have recently been dispatched to Cape Town, Montreal, 
Honolulu, and Aberdeen. Others are being made for India, China, Egypt, New 
Zealand, Canada, and Ireland. 

Bulletins and Tables. 

‘The Large Earthquakes of 1916’ have been collated and published as a 
single pamphlet of 116 pages, but there are great difficulties in obtaining satis- 
factory determinations of epicentres for the later war years, which have delayed 
further publication. , 

The corrections to adopted tables have not yet been completed. 

Earthquake Periodicity. 

The study of long periods in the ‘Chinese Earthquakes’ directed attention 
to a period near 260 years. This was in the first instance identified as 240 years 
(‘Mon, Not. R.A.S.,’ lxxix., p. 531) as mentioned in the last report, and Mr, De 
Lury pointed out that this value also suited tree-records (Pub, Amer, Ast. 
Soc. 1919). But an investigation on the secular acceleration of the Moon by Dr. 
Fotheringham recalled attention to a value nearer 260 years, which was also 
found to suit the tree-records (‘ Mon. Not. R.A.S.,’ lxxx., p. 578) over the same 
period. Ultimately a much longer series of tree-records was obtained (Mr. A. EB. 
Douglass’s compilation from 1180 8.c.) and a full analysis of these, now in the 
press (‘ Mon. Not. R.A.S.,’ 1920 Supp. No.), suggests a double periodicity, with 
components of approximate lengths 284 and 303 years. Long as it is, the series 
of tree-records is not long enough to separate these components themselves : the 
evidence for separation is provided by the harmonics, especially the third 
harmonic, which shows components of 101 years and 94°4 years clearly separated, 
the former and longer being the stronger, whereas in the main terms the shorter 
period is the stronger. The second harmonic of the longer period, 7.e., half 303, 
or, say, 152 years, is quite possibly the 156-year period referred to in the last 

These results have been obtained so recently that their full relation to the 
earthquake records have not yet been worked out. But a welcome confirmation 
may be mentioned. In the ‘Bull. Seism. Soc. of America,’ vol. ii., No. 1, Miss 
Bellamy found a later list of ‘Chinese Earthquakes’ compiled by N. F. Drake. 
It is not entirely independent of the catalogue already studied (compiled by 
Shinobu Hirota in 1908 and mentioned by Drake as having been received too 
late for inclusion or comparison), but it differs from it in one important respect, 
being copious in the later centuries where Hirota’s catalogue is scanty. Further, 
it is confined to ‘ destructive or nearly destructive’ earthquakes, so that the 
records are probably more precisely comparable inter se, although they still 
show a large increase about A.D. 1300, which must be attributed to greater 


completeness of the later records, or rather imperfection in the earlier years. 
The following table gives the analysis in periods of 284 years :— 

Tas_e I. 
Numbers of Chinese Destructive Harthquakes (Drake). 

Initia] 2081 B-c.| 93 B.c. | 191 | 475 | 759 | 1043 | 1327 | 1611 a 
vpn to to to to to to to Total | - a 
94 zc. | a.v.190| 474 | 758 | 1042 | 1326 | 1610 | 1894 mag 
0 1 2 1 2 2 3 28 27 66 48 
24 2 2 1 5 2 7 21 12 52 58 
48 0 3 2 0 3 2 1 11 22 25 
71 1 2 4 0 2 5 0 2 16 28 
95 0 0 5 1 3 0 7 8 24 27 
119 0 2 10 1 2 1 9 5 30 39 
142 2 0 0 3 0 4 26 7 42 37 
166 3 3 4 1 1 7 30 4 53 53 
190 4 5 0 0 1 0 23 9 42 42 
213 0 7 2 0 2 4 22 12 49 39 
237 1 7 1 1 9 9 23 15 66 68 
261 0 3 1 4 3 18 22 14 65 63 
Total] 14 36 31 18 30 60 | 212 | 126 | 527 | 527 

The totals in the last column but one are governed chiefly by the later 
cycles. To minimise this effect the eight columns were all reduced to the 
same total 66, using one place of decimals until the sums were formed. The 
results are given under the heading ‘ Revised,’ and it will be seen that they 
give substantially the same curve, with pronounced minimum extending from 
the 48th year to the 118th, and a pronounced maximum at the end. The 48th 
year of the present cycle will be 1942, so that we are approaching the time of 
minimum quakes and have passed the maximum. But it is not yet clear whether 
these figures for China apply unmodified to the whole earth. It may be possible 
to observe this decline in the near future, but up to the present the records are 
affected by so many uncertainties, owing partly to the novelty of the science, 
partly to the war, and to other causes, that it is very difficult to compare one 
year with another. Thus the Eskdalemuir records show the following fotal 
numbers of earthquakes :— 

1911 1912 1913 1914 1915 1916 1917 1918 
236 393 287 278 184 163 166 192 

which at first sight might be interpreted as a notable falling-off in earthquake 
activity, but is probably chiefly due to a change of method in 1915. The point 
will, however, be further examined. Analysing the last two columns of Table I. 
harmonically we get from the simple totals 

20 cos (@ — 301°) + 11 cos (26 — 348°) + 1 cos (38 — 304°) + 5 cos (40 — 98°) 
from the revised 
14 cos (8 — 304°) + 8 cos (20 — 340°) + 3 cos (3@— 211°) + 8 cos (40 — 138°). 

The third harmonic is small—smaller than the fourth, for instance. But on 
analysing the results in 101 years a larger term is obtained. The totals are 
(for twelve groups to the cycle, which gives nearly the same mean as above) 

48 41 45 41 31 53 38 37 33 656 43 54 

which gives a term 5 cos (@— 331°). 
This is in accordance with the results found from trees—that the 101-year term 
should exceed the 94 year. 


Microseisms. By J. J. SHAw. 

Microseisms appear to have been a much neglected study. A few observers 
have counted them, measured their frequency and amplitude, and noted their 
seasonal character, but beyond this little seems to have been done. This is all 
the more remarkable in view of the fact that microseisms, unlike earthquakes, 
are always more or less available for investigation. 

In 1911 the International Seismological Congress in Manchester allotted 5000. 
for their investigation, and as a result the Central Bureau at Strasbourg tabulated 
a number of observations, and, but for the European War, would probably 
have reported at Petrograd in 1914, If any conclusions were arrived at they 
do not appear to have been published. 

In the 1917 report of this Committee attention was drawn to the readiness 
with which a microseismic wave could be identified at two adjacent stations (in 
that case, in separate buildings 60 feet apart). 

The two machines, arranged with precisely similar constants, produced 
identical records of the microseisms; but an interesting feature was observed, 
that, when keeping the nominal magnifications of the two machines the same, and 
at the same time varying the relative sensitivity to tilt of one machine to as much 
as four times the other, the amplitude shown on the film remained the same on each 
machine, This seems to indicate that a microseismic wave is purely horizontal 
and compressional rather than of an undulating gravitational character. 

In, the same report it was suggested that, by gradually increasing the distance 
between the recording stations (but only so long as it was possible to identify the 
individual waves), it might be possible to trace the origin and cause of these 

With this object in view two suitable stations were secured. The one was 
the writer’s household cellar at West Bromwich, the other a ‘dug-out’ in a 
pit bank at Millpool Colliery situated two miles away, and kindly placed 
at our disposal by T. Davis, Esq., of the Patent Shaft and Axletree Co., of 

The dug-out was a tunnel 60 feet into the mound and 15 feet below the 
surface. It lay 17° west of north of the ‘home’ station. 

The first observations were made in March and April 1919, when for a few 
weeks two Milne-Shaw machines were available. 

It was at once seen that at stations two miles apart the records of the 
microseismic waves were almost identical. 

The clock in use at the dug-out was not of a sufficiently high standard to 
obtain the precise difference in time of arrival at the respective stations. 

Several seismograms were obtained during this time and were seen to be 
similar in every detail. 

In March and April of the present year a first-class timing clock was substi- 
tuted, and two more machines installed with the intention of timing the 
microseismic wave over this two-mile base line. 

The usual means of synchronising were not available, therefore the clocks 
were adiusted as follows :— 

A watch with an excellent hourly rate was chosen and carried per motor-cycle 
between the stations. Two observations, with 30-minute intervals, were made 
on the home clock, two on the dug-out clock, and two more on the home clock. 
It was estimated that on favourable occasions the two clocks were set alike 
within one-tenth of a second. The clocks were checked once per day, and the 
waves timed by measuring on the film from a minute eclipse to the nearest. apex 
at the extreme of an excursion. 

This first method was continued from January 31 to February 15. As differ- 
ences of 14 to 2 seconds were shown—being probably erroneous—an effort was 
made during March to secure a closer comparison. 

Firstly, the clocks were checked twice per day. Secondly, as, on a closer 
scrutiny, small fluctuations in the peripheral speed of the recording drums 
could be detected, it was seen to be inadvisable to measure any intermediate 
point during a minute, but to rely only upon the moment when the eclipsing 
shutter opened or closed. 


The duration of the eclipse was 4°7 seconds in each case, so that opening or 
closing were equally serviceable as datum points. Therefore a new method of 
comparing the films was devised as follows :— 

The eclipsing shutter was provided with a narrow slit through which a small 
percentage of light could pass when the shutter was closed. ‘This feeble beam 
produced a ghost-like trace during the interval of each eclipse. 

In making comparisons instances were chosen where the amplitude was not 
only large but also where the shutter had opened or closed near the middle 
or zero position of the wave. 

The change of intensity of the trace was sharp and easily measured, whilst 
the extremity of the excursion could be seen in the ghost. 

The period of the wave and its phase at the datum point having been deter- 
mined, it was then possible to resolve the harmonic motion, and so obtain the 
difference in time to one-tenth of a second. 

It is interesting to note that by either method the average difference was 
0°8 second, but the second method gave much more consistent readings. 

A further object was to note to what extent the direction of propagation, 
the amplitude, or the period were affected by meteorological conditions, particu- 
larly the direction and force of the wind. 

We were indebted to A. J. Kelly, Esq., Director of the Birmingham and 
Midland Institute Observatory (four miles distant), for his help in this matter. 

The force of the wind and the amplitude did appear to be co-related, inasmuch 
that the microseisms were small during calm spells and vice versa, but there was 
a notable exception on March 10. During March 9 and 10 the air movement 
had been small, 178 and 272 miles in each 24 hours respectively, yet on the 
evening of the 10th nearly the largest waves of the series were recorded. 

Within a period of 24 hours, March 12 to 13, the velocity of the wind 
ranged from 37 to 12 and back to 37 miles per hour in-three nearly equal periods, 
but there was no corresponding fluctuation in the amplitude of the microseisms. 
Similar fluctuations on other dates were equally ineffective to produce sudden 
change in the ground movement. 

There was little variation in period. It was usually 6 to 7 seconds. On 
a few occasions it fell to 4°5 seconds, but never exceeded 8 seconds. It will 
be observed that the period appears to increase with the amplitude. 

The outstanding, and we venture to think important, discovery was that 
the microseismic waves always arrived from the same direction. On every. film 
they were seen to arrive at the ‘dug-out’ or northerly station first, 

During the period of observation the wind blew from all points, except 
north to east, but no quarter seemed to affect the regularity with which the 
waves arrived from the north. 

Column two in the following table gives the time in seconds by which the 
waves arrived at the dug-out first :— 

By First Method. 


Daily Horl. Wave 
Date Difference, Wind Motion of |Amplitude P sod 
F Sec. Direction the Wind, & ‘Seo ; 
Miles ra 
Jan. 31 0-0 S—WSW 427 58 73 
Feb. 2 0:0 SW—S 587 4:0 7°5 
» 6 15 SSE 295 2°8 67 
” 9 10 WSW 491 3:2 63 
» 10 10 SW 670 95 8:0 
» 12 0:0 WNW —S 354 3°6 6:2 
» 15 15 8 423 5:0 62 
tl el ak brill peel te eT mat ede Al co sgl AO beh Nl bata ate 


By Second Method. 

Daily Horl. ee 
Dat Difference, Wind Motion of | Amplitude Pe ie d 
Ve Sec. Direction the Wind, Ie Saline 
Miles BAG: 
March 4 1:0 WSW—S 260 4:9 75 
Ss 5 1:0 8 285 16 6-7 
” 6 0°75 NS) 476 4:5 6°0 
:° 9 ==" W 178 = a7 
» 10 07 SSW 272 7:0 7:0 
rer sii 11 NW 257 4:9 6°5 
babe, plies 0:5 W 541 57 6:0 
elisa) 1:0 S) 377 4:5 6°2 
he les 0:8 WwW 500 4:0 67 
» 20 — W 131 08 5:5 
pee a 08 Sy 348 4:0 7°3 
9», 20 07 s 613 53 73 
» 28 08 rs) 498 32 57 
Average 83 371 3°9 6°5 

It will be observed that the time in column two is generally about one second, 
which is the approximate time required for a surface wave to travel two miles, 
thus indicating that the direction of propagation was more or less constant and 
approximately from north to south. 

On the other hand there are differences ranging between 0°7 sec. and 1°1 sec. 
Remembering the method of synchronising the clocks it is possible many of the 
irregularities are due to personal and instrumental error. To what extent they 
indicate that the azimuth wanders round the northern semicircle it is difficult 
to determine, but from the fact that the southern half was never indicated, it 
would seem feasible to presume that the waves came generally from the north. 

More precise information is very desirable, and can only be obtained from 
not less than three stations with preferably a longer base of operation, and 
with better timing facilities. 

It is hoped, at some future date, when three machines are simultaneously 
available and suitable quarters and observers found, to make the experiment 
on a ten-mile triangle. 

An attempt was made to identify the microseisms recorded at Oxford with 
those of West Bromwich (80 miles apart), but unfortunately the booms are 
oriented 90° from each other. From some measures made by Professor Turner 
there was a suggestion of agreement, but nothing really tangible has at present 
been. detected. 

A fruitful investigation for observatories would be to determine whether this 
unidirectional character of microseisms is general, and whether the azimuth 
depends upon the contour or physical features of a country. 

From the foregoing it is clear that microseisms are real travelling waves of 
the same character as those propagated by earthquake shocks, and if a 
seismograph fails to perceive them then it is not recording all that is passing. 

Two stations where Milne-Shaw instruments are installed, viz., Bidston and 
Edinburgh, seem to be very liable to microseisms. Both stations are near the 
sea, and both stand upon the crest of a hill. 

Shide was within six miles of the open sea, but did not stand upon a hill. 
This station did not find the microseisms more prevalent than an average station. 

Oxford and West Bromwich are well removed from the sea. They record 
microseisms as freely as Shide. It has yet to be determined whether the sea. 
board is more liable to these movements : the evidence points to that conclusion. 


The P phase of a seismogram sometimes, but not often, begins with a sharp 
kick—denoted i P; but sensitive machines show that much more frequently this 
sharp kick is preceded by two or three waves of smaller amplitude and higher 
frequency. When the frequency is distinctly quicker than that of the prevail- 
ing microseisms, and the amplitude of the latter is not too great, it is easy to 
detect the true P as a superimposed wave, but if the period of these small 
precursors approximate to that of the microseisms, then it is difficult to deter- 
mine the true inception of the earthquake record. 

Machines which do not record the microseisms will not record these minute 
waves. With such machines probably more uniformity, by reading the bigger 
kick, will result, but misguided uniformity will not be conducive to obtaining 
the true rate of propagation of the P phase. 

It is to sensitive machines and careful scrutiny of the record that we 
must look for data for the perfecting of seismological tables. 


Absorption Spectra of Organic Compounds.—Report of Committee 
(Sir J. J. Dossiz, Chairman; Professor E. E. C. Baty, Secretary; 
and Dr. A. W. Stewart). Drawn up by the Secretary. 

Various theories have been advanced from time to time to explain the absorption 
bands exhibited by organic compounds, and it would seem advisable at this time 
to deal with these and to state the position that has been reached in this branch 
of scientific investigation. There is no doubt that the pioneer in this field of 
work was the late Sir Walter Noel Hartley. He was the first to undertake a 
detailed investigation on scientific lines of the absorption exerted by organic 
compounds in the visible and ultra-violet regions of the spectrum. He was the 
first to recognise the fact that isolated measurements of the absorption spectrum 
of a substance in solution are valueless, and he devised the method whereby com- 
plete records of the absorption could be obtained. Hartley’s method consisted 
in measuring the oscillation frequencies of the light for which complete absorption 
is shown by definite thicknesses of a solution of known strength of the sub- 
stance. The observations were repeated with the same thicknesses of more and 
more dilute solutions until no measurable absorption was observed. By plotting 
the oscillation frequencies against the thicknesses expressed as equivalent thick- 
nesses of some selected concentration an absorption curve was obtained, called by 
Hartley a molecular curve of absorption. 

At the present time this method of observation has been displaced by the 
quantitative measurement of the light absorbed. The absorptive power exhibited 
by a given substance for light of a given frequency is expressed in terms of the 
molecular extinction coefficient, log Io/I+dc, where Io/I is the ratio of the 
intensities of the incident and emergent light as observed with a layer d cms 
thick of a solution containing c¢ gram molecules of the absorbing substance 
dissolved in a litre of some diactinic solvent. 

Reference may: be made to the use of a solution of the substance under 
examination. In general it may be said that the absorptive power exerted 
by compounds is large, with the result that it is necessary to use very thin layers 
for purposes of observation. This is impossible of realisation with solid sub- 
stances, and indeed with many liquids the thickness required is so small that 
without very accurate and expensive apparatus the necessary thin layers cannot 
be obtained. By common consent, therefore, solutions of known strength in 
diactinic solvents are employed. It must be remembered, however, that the 
influence of a solvent on the absorptive power of a compound is often very 
marked, and due allowance must be made for this effect. The question of the 
influence of a solvent will be discussed later. 

The region of the spectrum dealt with by Hartley extended from the red 
end to the limit of the ultra-violet as set by a quartz spectrograph working in 
air, that is to say, between the limits of wave-length 6000 and 2100 Angstroms. 
He showed in the first place that substances can in general be divided into two 
classes, namely, those which exhibit selective absorption, z.e., absorption bands 
between the above spectral limits, and those which exhibit only general absorp- 
tion. It is not necessary here to detail the whole of Hartley’s work, but one 
important fact was established, namely, that, providing no disturbing factor 
intervenes, the absorption curves shown by compounds of similar constitution are 
themselves similar. This fact was made use of in determining the constitution 
of a few substances with reference to which the chemical arguments at the time 
were at fault. It was shown for instance that phloroglucinol is a true trihydroxy- 
benzene and not ketonic since its absorption curve is very similar to that of its 


trimethyl ether.' Similarly the constitution of isatin CoH Seo, 

1 See references, p. 243, 



carbostyril? ON and 0-oxycarbanii® oHK Seo, was determined 


by comparison of their absorption curves with those of their nitrogen and oxygen 
methyl derivatives. 

It may readily be understood that high hopes were engendered that this 
method might prove to be of immense value to the chemist as independent evi- 
dence in the determination of the constitution of compounds, but it may be 
said at once that these high hopes have not been realised. A very brief account 
may be given of the various attempts that have been made to co-ordinate consti- 
tution and absorption of light, because all of these attempts have some importance 
in relation to more recent developments. Following on Hartley’s successful 
work an attempt was made to determine the constitution of ethyl acetoacetate 
and its metallic derivatives by comparison with its two ethyl derivatives, ethyl 
B-ethoxycrotonate and ethyl ethylacetoacetate.* It was found, however, that 
the parent ester and its metallic derivatives differ in absorptive power very 
materially from the two isomeric ethyl derivatives. The two latter do not show 
selective absorption, whilst the metallic derivatives show well-marked absorption 
bands. The deduction was made from this that the origin of the absorption 
bands is to be found not in any specific structure but in a tautomeric equilibrium 
between the two forms, that is to say, the selective absorption of light is due to 


tl | 
the change of linking involved in the process—C—CHM—+—C=CH_, where 

M stands for hydrogen or a metal. 

This theory was extended to aromatic compounds where the selective absorp- 
tion was considered to be due to the oscillation of linking supposed to be present 
in the benzene ring. The absence of selective absorption observed with some 
benzenoid compounds was considered to be due to the restraint on the oscillation 
exercised by certain strongly electro-negative substituent groups such as NO,, 
&e.> i 

Without question one of the most important theories connoting absorption and 
structure is that known as the quinonoid theory which connected visible colour 
with a structure analogous to that of either para- or ortho-benzoquinone. This 
theory has found great favour on account of the undoubted fact that when a 
quinonoid structure is possible the substance in the majority of cases is visibly 
coloured, whilst in the case of an isomeric substance in which a quinonoid struc- 
ture is not possible the colour is in general less intense or indeed very slight. 
It was a simple matter to apply the oscillation theory in explaining the visible 

-colour of the quinonoid compounds. The oscillation was suggested as that 
between the two forms 

oO o—— 
I | 
O | 
Similarly the visible colour of the o-diketones was explained by the oscillation 
00 o-0O 

ol jy ar 
between the two forms —C—C— Pil —C=C-—, which after all is only a slight varia- 
tion of the quinonoid conception. This particular type of oscillating linking was 
named isorropesis.® 
It was soon pointed out, however, that this theory was open to serious 

objection because certain compounds in which no oscillation seemed possible 



exhibit strong selective absorption. For example camphor 7 CoB. shows 
; CO 
a marked band, as also does the disubstituted compound 8 

Gi] Dre 

in which no tautomeric equilibrium seems possible. Again, azo-iso-butyronitrile 
shows marked selective absorption. 

aah Sega 
Pleas sf a 


The most interesting example of a compound which exhibits an absorption band is 
chloropicrin, CC1,NO,, which does not contain any hydrogen atoms at all. It 
may be noted that Hantzsch has taken up the position that there is a definite 
correlation between constitution and absorption, and he has published very many 
papers in support of his theory. The starting-point of the theory is the 
derivatives of ethyl acetoacetate which have already been referred to. He 
showed that ethyl dimethylacetoacetate, which is an absolutely definite ketonic 
compound, exhibits only slight general absorption. The enolic derivative ethyl 
B-ethoxycrotonate at equal molecular concentration exhibits more strongly marked 
general absorption. Hantzsch assumes® that the absorption curves are truly 
characteristic of the ketonic and enolic forms respectively. He then assumes 
that the absorption band shown by the metallic derivatives of ethyl acetoacetate 
is due to the constitution where M stands for a monovalent metal. The novelty 

yh io, 


C M 
Ge ee 

of the conception lies in the mutual influence of the secondary valencies or 
residual affinities of the metal and oxygen atoms, this influence being denoted 
by the dotted line in the formula. It will be seen that this explanation of 
selective absorption does not involve any liable atoms but attributes the 
phenomenon to secondary valencies. Starting from this original assumption 
Hantzsch has built up a complete theory of a direct correlation between absorp- 
tion and constitution which states that if a substan¢e exhibits different absorption 
curves under different conditions of solvent, &c., this is due to a definite 
change in constitution. It is not worth while to describe in detail the conclusions 
which Hantzsch arrives at as regards the specific compounds examined by him,?° 
such, for instance, as the variety of absorption bands shown by compounds of 
an acid type when dissolved in different basic solvents, each different absorption 
band being attributed to a different structure of the compound. It is perhaps 
worthy of mention that Hantzsch finds it necessary to confess that in some cases 
the variations in absorption shown by certain compounds are more numerous 
than can be accounted for by changes in constitution. 

It may be stated at once that there are several very grave objections to 



Hantzsch’s theory, and indeed these are so fundamental that it becomes impos- 
sible to accept the theory as it stands. In the first place, as was pointed out 
above, the cardinal assumption on which the whole theory rests is that the absorp- 
tion band shown by the metallic derivatives of ethyl acetoacetate is due to the 
secondary valencies of the metallic atom and the carbonyl oxygen of the 
carboxyl group. There are many cases of compounds in which secondary 
valencies must be postulated in order to explain their very existence, and these 
compounds do not generally show absorption bands in the visible and ultra- 
violet. Some peculiar merit must therefore be attributed to the six-membered 
‘ring’ of Hantzsch’s formula, and it is difficult to accept this since the selective 
absorption of such compounds as the alkaline nitrates and chloropicrin obviously 
cannot have any relation to a six-membered ring. 

More important still are two facts which appear to have escaped the notice 
of Hantzsch. First, ethyl dimethylacetoacetate in the presence of alkali shows 
an absorption band very similar to that shown by ethyl acetoacetate in the 
presence of alkali. Second, ethyl B-ethoxycrotonate shows an incipient absorp- 
tion band in the presence of acid. It is obvious that these two observations are 
in direct opposition. to the Hantzsch formula as the correct explanation of the 
selective absorption shown by the metallic derivatives of ethyl acetoacetate. 

Still more cogent arguments against the theory of correlation between 
structure and absorption in the visible and ultra-violet are to be found in such 
cases as pyridine and piperidine. Pyridine in the homogeneous state and in 
solution in various solvents exhibits an absorption band with centre at 
1/A = 3910, but in the vapour state it shows an entirely different band with 
centre at 1/A = 3587.1! Piperidine vapour shows a well-marked absorption band, 
but in solution and in the homogeneous state it is completely diactinic. Analogous 
dissimilarities between the molecular absorptive powers of liquid and vapour have 
been observed with other compounds, and clearly on the structure-absorption 
theory the structure of the molecules in the liquid and vapour phases must be 
different. This would seem to be impossible at any rate in the case of 
symmetrical molecules such as pyridine and piperidine. 

The evidence against the direct structure-absorption correlation theory as 
developed by Hantzsch is overwhelmingly great, and this is equally true of the 
quinonoid explanation of visible colour. The evidence of numerous colourless 
compounds which cannot be quinonoid in structure is sufficient to condemn this 
theory, even were there no other evidence against it. One of the most often 
quoted instances in which the quinonoid theory is invoked is the well-known 
case of aminoazobenzene. This compound gives with hydrochloric acid (one 
equivalent) a salt which is more highly coloured than it is itself. This is 
universally accepted as being due to the salt having the structure 


because the colour and absorption spectrum is entirely different from that of 
benzeneazophenyltrimethylammonium iodide. 

Bot pea 

which of course corresponds to the normal form of the hydrochloride. 


_ On the other hand, the trimethylammonium compound also gives a salt which 

is more highly coloured than it is itgelf, and obviously this cannot be due to a 

quinonoid structure, It is clearly unjustifiable to explain the one case of colour 
1920 ee ; Q 


change by the quinonoid configuration when the other case of exactly analogous 
colour change cannot be so explained. 

Another well-known application of the quinonoid hypothesis is to the alkali 
metal salts of the nitrophenols which are highly coloured. It is stated, for 
example, that the sodium salt of p-nitrophenol has the constitution 

O= == xt 


If that is so, what is the constitution of the nitrophenol when in solution in 
concentrated sulphuric acid, for it is equally coloured under these conditions? A 
similar coloured solution is obtained when p-nitroanisole is dissolved in sulphuric 
acid. Many other instances could be quoted, and there is no doubt that the 
evidence against a direct structure-absorption correlation is overwhelmingly 

There are two general objectives to any of the theories that have been referred 
to. In the first place, no theory can be sound which is limited to a very minute 
section of the spectrum such as the visible and ultra-violet, and in the second 
place, no theory can hold good unless it rests on a quantitative physical basis. 
There is also another aspect of the phenomenon of absorption, namely, its un- 
doubted connection with the phenomena of fluorescence and phosphorescence. 
Just as the selective absorption of light must be due to specific properties of 
molecules, so also must the emission of light by molecules be due to similar 
properties. It is evident that any theory must take cognisance of both 
phenomena. It is true that many theories were advanced to explain the 
fluorescence of organic compounds, but none of these can be said to hold the 
field. Devised to explain visible fluorescence they fail entirely to offer any 
explanation of the ultra-violet fluorescence shown by many compounds, 

In general it may be said that the most recent work on the absorption by 
organic compounds has increasingly shown that there is some relation between 
the absorption bands shown by a substance and its reactivity. Perhaps the first 
observations which supported this view were those of certain amino-aldehydes 
and -ketones of the aromatic series and their salts with hydrogen chloride.12_ It 
was found that alcoholic solutions of these compounds exhibit well-marked 
absorption bands. On the addition of small quantities (0°1 to 0°5 eq.) of hydro- 
chloric acid to these solutions a new absorption band, situated nearer to the red, 
is developed in each case. On the addition of more acid this band disappears 
and gives place to the absorption characteristic of the hydrochloride of the 
original base. This shows that the base as it exists in alcohol solution does not 
react with the acid to give the salt, but that it is first converted into an inter- 
mediate or reactive phase which then reacts with more acid to give the salt. 

These observations were extended to many substances, notably certain 
phenolic compounds including the nitrophenols.1* The compounds in alcoholic 
solution exhibit well-marked absorption bands which are not appreciably changed 
when sulphuric acid is added. When dissolved in concentrated sulphuric acid 
they develop visible colour due to absorption bands in the visible region. The 
compounds in sulphuric acid solution, on being allowed to remain, slowly 
undergo sulphonation to give colourless sulphonic acids. Clearly. therefore, 
these phenols in the condition in which they exist in alcoholic solution do not 
react with sulphuric acid. When dissolved in strong sulphuric acid they are 
changed into a reactive phase which slowly reacts with the sulphuric acid to give 
the sulphonic acid. They are therefore exactly analogous to the amino-aldehydes 
and -ketones alreadv mentioned. 

It might easily be said that the coloured reactive modifications have under- 
gone a change in structure. but further evidence shows that no change of 
structure has taken place. The majority of these compounds in alcoholic solu- 
tion exhibit fluorescence when exposed to light of frequency equal to that of 
their absorption bands. The frequency of this fluorescent emission has been 
accurately measured, and it has been found in every case of the above-mentioned 
substances that the frequency of the fluorescence of the compound in alcoholic 


solution is equal to that of the absorption band shown by that compound when 
in the reactive phase. The same frequency therefore is characteristic of a given 
substance in two solvents, in one of which it is exhibited as emission and in the 
other as absorption. It is evident, therefore, that the constitution of each 
compound is the same in the two cases. 

Very important conclusions may be drawn from these observations, namely, 
that a given compound can exist in at any rate two phases which differ in 
their reactivity and which are characterised by different absorption bands. 
Also the absorption bands shown by the reactive phases are nearer to the red 
end of the spectrum. It is therefore an obvious deduction that a definite 
absorption band is associated with a definite type of reactivity. 

The next question to consider is whether an explanation of these facts can 
be found. In the theories of absorption spectra given above no reference is 
made to the ultimate destination of the light which is being absorbed. It is 
perfectly obvious that, unless the absorbing compound undergoes a photochemical 
change, the total amount of energy absorbed must again be radiated. It is 
equally evident that just as the light energy is absorbed at frequencies which 
are characteristic of the absorbing substance, so also must this energy be 
radiated at frequencies characteristic of the substance. Careful experiments 
have proved that, provided the absorbing substance or its solution is free from 
dust, there is no evidence of radiation at the frequencies which lie within the 
absorption band. Clearly, therefore, the phenomenon of absorption is not one of 
optical resonance, that is to say, the light energy absorbed by a substance is 
radiated at frequencies which are not the same as those at which it has been 
absorbed. Except in those cases where fluorescence or phosphorescence is 
observed, the whole of the absorbed energy is radiated at frequencies which lie 
in the infra-red region of the spectrum, and we have therefore— 

Energy absorbed (visible or ultra-violet) = energy radiated (infra-red), 

This necessarily establishes a relationship between the various frequencies 
exhibited by a substance in the infra-red, visible, and ultra-violet regions, and, 
indeed, invites investigation of this relationship. 

It will be remembered that Planck formulated the theory that absorption 
and radiation of energy are not continuous processes, but are discontinuous in 
the sense that the energy is absorbed or emitted in a series of fixed amounts. 
To these fixed amounts he gave the name of energy quanta, and he showed that 
the size of the quantum is given by the product of the frequency into a universal 
constant, the most recent value of which is 656 x 1027. According to this 
theory, therefore, if a substance is absorbing light with a frequency of, say, 
9 x 1014, the process is not continuous, but each molecule absorbs a series of 
quanta, each of which is 9 x 10!4 x 656 x 107, or 5:904 x 107 ergs. 
Without discussion of the fundamental basis of this quantus theory it may be 
applied to the problem of the absorption and radiation of energy by a molecule 
when, as already explained, the total quantity of energy absorbed is radiated 
at another and smaller frequency. Let a molecule absorb one quantum of light 
energy at its absorbing frequency. This energy is then radiated at another 
‘and smaller frequency, but it must be radiated as a whole number of quanta at 
‘that frequency. It follows, therefore, that when a molecule is absorbing at 
one frequency and radiating at another and smaller frequency, one quantum of 
energy at the larger frequency must be equal to a whole number of quanta at 
‘the smaller frequency. Finally, since the quantum is the product of the fre- 
‘quency into the universal constant, the conclusion is reached that the absorbing 
frequency must be an exact multiple of the radiating frequency. In other words, 
‘the frequencies of each absorption band shown by a substance. in the visible 
‘and ultra-violet must, on the basis of Planck’s theory, be an exact multiple of a 
frequency characteristic of that substance in the infra-red. It was not difficult 
‘to test the validity of this deduction since the existence of characteristic 
frequencies in the infra-red possessed by a substance can be proved by the 
method of absorption spectra observations in that region, and indeed a creat 
number of substances had already been in vestigated in this manner. . 

Tt may be stated’ at once that the relation has been found to be true in the 

Q 2 


case of every substance examined.‘ Further than this, it is well known that 
certain substances exhibit more than one absorption band in the visible or ultra- 
violet, and it has been found that the frequencies of each,of these absorption 
bands are exact multiples of one and the same frequency characteristic of that 
substance in the infra-red. It follows, therefore, that when a substance shows 
more than two absorption bands in the visible or ultra-violet there must exist a 
constant difference between the frequencies of consecutive bands, and this 
difference must equal the fundamental infra-red frequency. This has also been 
proved to be true. 

The application of the Planck theory has led to the discovery of relationships 
between the frequencies of the absorption bands shown by a substance, relation- 
ships which are of considerable importance because they form a quantitative 
basis of molecular frequencies. It is not possible here to give the mathematical 
development of Planck’s theory, and the theory is only mentioned because it led 
to the discovery of the relation between the frequencies. 

It is advisable at this point to discuss in some detail what is meant by the 
frequency of an absorption band and also the influence of a solvent upon that 
frequency. It is common knowledge that in many instances under high resolving 
power an absorption band is found to possess a structure. The most common 
phenomenon is when an absorption band consists of a series of sub-groups. In 
this case one sub-group always exhibits a maximum absorptive power, and those 
on either side exhibit decreasing absorptive power the farther they are situated 
from the principal sub-group. Then, again, it is generally found by the 
examination of the vapour of the substance that each of the sub-groups is 
resolved into fine absorption lines, and that the arrangement of these lines as 
regards their intensity is analogous to that of the sub-groups themselves. There 
is always in each sub-group one line of maximum intensity, and the other lines 
are arranged in series of decreasing intensity with regard to this central line. 

Now when a substance is cooled to low temperatures it is found that its 
absorption bands become narrower, this being due to the suppression of the 
outermost sub-groups. With further fall of temperature more and more sub- 
groups disappear, and finally there is left only the principal line of the principal 
sub-group. This absorption line persists even at the lowest temperatures yet 
reached. It is perfectly evident therefore that this single frequency is truly 
characteristic of the molecules, and that the other frequencies which make up 
the breadth of the band are due to some cause connected with the temperature 
of the molecules. There is, of course, no necessity to cool a substance to low 
temperatures in order to recognise the true molecular frequency, because this 
frequency is always that one for which the absorptive power is the greatest in 
the absorption band. In the quantitative relationships given above it is this 
true molecular frequency which is referred to. 

It is perhaps not out of place to refer to the confusion that has arisen from 
time to time from carelessness in nomenclature in dealing with absorption 
spectra observations. The term ‘band’ is applied to the whole region covered by 
one set of associated groups or sub-groups. In the literature the word band 
has been used when a sub-group of a band is meant, and thus considerable 
confusion has been caused. 

The next point to be dealt with is the variation in absorption caused by a 
solvent, a fact that is of material importance in connection with the quantitative 
relations between the molecular frequencies exhibited by a compound. Hartley 
was the first to observe the difference in frequency of a particular absorntion band 
according to whether a substance is examined in the vapour state or in solution 

in a solvent, and he noted that there is always a small shift towards the red in: 

passing from vapour to solution. There are, in fact, two different effects of a 

solvent npon the absorption spectrum of a substance as observed in-the vapour 

state. One of these has already been mentioned, namely, the appearance of an 
entirely different absorption band when the substance is dissolved. In this 
case the vapour exhibits a molecular frequency which is one multiple of the 
infra-red frequency, whilst the solution exhibits a molecular frequency which 
is another multiple of that infra-red freauency. In the case of some comnounds 
it has been shown that bv the nse of different solvents a number of different 
multiples of the infra-red fundamental are called into play. 


The second effect of a solvent is when the same molecular frequency is 
common to vapour and solution, but the measurements of this frequency with 
vapour and solution do not give exactly the same values. 1t is this particular 
eftect which requires discussion, because unless the phenomenon is understood 
the relationships between the infra-red fundamental frequency and the visible 
and ultra-violet frequencies will apparently not hold good. Without going 
fully into the quantitative measurements it may be stated that the change in 
the value of the molecular frequency in passing trom vapour to solution depends 
on the nature of the solvent and on the concentration in that solvent.’° As 
regards the effect of concentration, the difference between values of the molecular 
frequency as observed with vapour and solution is greatest with concentrated 
solutions. As the solution is diluted the value more and more nearly approaches 
the value for the vapour until at very great dilution the value for the solution 
equals that for the vapour. This change in the molecular frequency in passing 
from vapour to solution is not due to the fact that the quantitative relation 
between visible or ultra-violet bands and the intra-red fundamental does not 
hold, but to the fact that the infra-red fundamental itself varies slightly 
in position with the nature of the solvent and the concentration in that solvent. 
Another important fact to be recorded is that a compound in the liquid state 
does not show exactly the same molecular frequency as it does in the state of 
vapour. This, again, is due to a small difference in the infra-red fundamental 
frequency in the two states. It is obvious, therefore, that in making measure- 
ments ot molecular frequencies the true values are those obtained with the 
vapour. If, as frequently happens, measurements cannot be made with the 
vapour, then very dilute solutions must be used. Above all, in comparing 
together the various molecular frequencies shown by a given substance it is 
necessary: that all the measurements be made with the substance under the same 

In connection with the effect of solvents on the absorption exerted by a sub- 
stance, a brief reference may be made to the variation in the absorptive power 
with concentration. Measurements have as yet only been made for frequencies 
in the ultra-violet region. At first sight it might be expected that Beer’s 
law would hold good, namely, that the molecular absorptive power would be 
independent of the concentration. It is, however, rarely the case that Beer’s 
law holds good, and in the great majority of cases the absorptive power in- 
creases with dilution up to a constant) maximum. It has been found that if 
K isthe maximum absorptive power shown by a substance at very great dilution 
in a given solvent, and k is the absorptive power at a definite concentration 
k/K=1—e-4V, where V is the volume in litres containing one gram molecule 
of the absorbing substance and a is a constant. A more convenient form of the 
above is log (K / K-k) =aV. 

The quantitative relationships between the various frequencies shown by a 
molecule may now be further considered. It has already been stated that the 
principal frequencies of all the absorption bands shown by a compound in the 
visible and ultra-violet are always exact multiples of the principal frequency 
of an important absorption band shown by that substance in the infra-red. 
This is true of all the absorption bands which are shown by a substance in 
different solvents, and which Hantzsch attempted to explain by assigning a 
different formula for each band. Other quantitative relationships have also 
been discovered, and these may briefly be described, because it has been 
found possible from a knowledge of them to formulate a quantitative theory 
which would seem capable of explaining all the observations that have been 
made on absorption spectra. 

In the first place it may be noted that the examination of the absorption 
exerted by a compound in the infra-red reveals the existence of many more 
bands than the important one which has been called the infra-red fundamental, 
and’ which determines the frequencies of the visible and ultra-violet bands. , 
Purther, in every case yet examined the infra-red fundamental lines were in the 
short wave infra-red region, i.e., between the wave-lengths limits of 8 and 3p. 
Tf the principal frequencies of all the infra-red bands are examined additional 

interesting relationships are found. Thus the fundamental infra-red frequency 

either ig the least common multiple of certain of the long wave infra-red 


frequencies or is a multiple of that least common multiple, and indeed this rela- 
tionship gives the key to the whole of the system of frequencies exhibited by a 
moiecule. Again, the whole of the principal the infra-red are 
derived from certain constants, and these constants are characteristic of the 
elementary atoms of which the absorbing molecules are composed. These con- 
stants or elementary atomic frequencies lie in the very long wave infra-red 
region, and the corresponding wave-lengths are of the order of 1000p. 

The whole of the principal frequencies shown by a molecule are determined 
as follows: The fundamental infra-red frequency either is the least common 
multiple of all the elementary atomic frequencies which are active in the mole- 
cule or is an exact multiple of that least common multiple. The principal 
frequencies of all the visible or ultra-violet absorption bands shown by that 
molecule under various conditions are exact multiples of that fundamental infra- 
red frequency, and therefore are characteristic of that molecule. In addition 
to all these frequencies which are true molecular frequencies, there also exist 
frequencies which are the least common multiples of some (not all) of the 
elementary atomic frequencies, and these are due to specific groups of atoms in 
the molecule, and are called intra-molecular frequencies. 

The question might be asked as to how these relationships have been proved 
within a very high degree of accuracy in view of the fact that measurements 
of absorption in the infra-red have not reached a high level of accuracy. It 
has been found that if a molecule exhibit a principal frequency F in the infra- 
red, visible, or ultra-violet, there will be associated with that frequency sub- 
sidiary frequencies F+.A, where A stands for either the intra-molecular fre- 
quencies or the elementary atomic frequencies. Indeed, it is to this cause that 
the breadth of the absorption bands is due. As the result of this it is possible 
to arrive at highly accurate determinations of the intra-molecular and ele- 
mentary atomic frequencies by analysis of the absorption bands, especially 
those in the ultra-violet where the accuracy of measurement is very high. 

The most usual arrangement of the subsidiary frequencies within an absorp- 
tion band is as follows : The band consists of a series of sub-groups symmetrically 
arranged with respect to the principal sub-group with the greatest absorptive 
power. These sub-groups each possess a principal line for which the absorptive 
power is a maximum, and all these principal lines form a series of constant 
frequency difference.. This frequency difference is an intra-molecular frequency 
and is characteristic of a specific group of atoms within the molecule. 

Then, again, each sub-group is exactly similar in structure and consists of 
two or more series of lines, each with constant frequency difference and 
symmetrically arranged with respect to the principal line. These constant 
frequency differences are the elementary atomic frequencies characteristic of 
the atoms composing the specific group within the molecule, and the least common 
multiple of these is the intra-molecular frequency characteristic of that group 
of atoms. 

Two instances may be given which exemplify very fully these relationships, 
The complete absorption system of sulphur dioxide has been found to be based 
on three elementary atomic frequencies.1¢ Of these, two, 819 x 104! and 
1:296 x 10!2, are characteristic of the sulphur atom because they also form 

the basis of the infra-red frequencies of hydrogen sulphide, and the third, | 

24531 x 1011, is characteristic of the oxygen atom. Krom direct measurement 
the two possible intra-molecular frequencies of the water molecule have been 
found to be 75 x 10! and 1:7301 x 10%. Obviously if 2:4531 x 1011 is 
characteristic of the oxygen atom it should form one of the fundamental constants 
of the water molecule. From these three values alone it has been found 
possible?” to calculate the whole of the structure of the infra-red bands of 
water, and the values obtained agree absolutely with those observed.1® 

Again, in one of the ultra-violet bands of naphthalene there exists a constant 
frequency difference of 1-4136 x 101° between the sub-groups, which is therefore 
an intra-molecular frequency, and thus must be characteristic of a definite 
group of atoms within the naphthalene molecule. The two most obvious groups 
of atoms are the phenyl group and the olefine group, and therefore the frequency 
1:4136 x 101% should be the true molecular frequency of either benzene or one 
of the olefines, the olefines being very similar in their characteristic frequencies. 



This was found to be true for the olefines since ethylene shows a series of bands 
in the short wave infra-red, the principal frequencies of which are exact multiples 
of 14136 x 101°, 

In formulating a theory of absorption spectra the following relationships 
which have been established must be considered.}* 

1. Every elementary atom possesses one or more frequencies which are 
characteristic of the element. 

2. When atoms of different elements enter into combination the resulting 
molecule is endowed with a new frequency which is the least common multiple 
of the frequencies of the atoms it contains. This is called the true molecular 

3. lhe central frequencies of all absorption bands, that is, those frequencies 
for which the absorptive power is greatest, are molecular frequencies 
characteristic of the molecules, since these alone persist when the substance 
is cooled to low temperatures. 

4. The molecular frequencies in the visible and ultra-violet regions are exact 
multiples of a molecular frequency in the short wave infra-red, which is called 
the infra-red fundamental frequency. 

5. The infra-red fundamental frequency either is the true molecular frequency 
or is an exact multiple of the true molecular frequency. 

6. The breadth of an absorption band as observed at ordinary temperatures 
is due to the combination of the molecular central frequency with subsidiary 

The first question which arises is the meaning of the characteristic atomic 
frequencies which are the fundamental constants trom which the whole system 
of trequencies shown by a molecule is derived. Presumably they are connected 
with the shift of an electron from one stationary orbit to another, a change 
which must require a definite amount of energy depending upon the electro- 
magnetic force field of the atom. Indeed, it would seem that, if a possibility 
be allowed of the shift of an electron from one stationary orbit to another, it 
becomes necessary at once to accept the conclusion that a definite and fixed 
amount of energy is involved in the change. It is proposed, therefore, to start 
from this assumption, that in any elementary atom it is possible to shift an 
electron from one stationary orbit to another, that a definite amount of energy 
is required to effect the change, and that this fixed quantity of energy is 
connected with the frequency by the relation— 

Fixed Quantity of Energy 

= Frequency. 

This is readily to be understood if the constant involves a function of the time 
taken in the actual operation, which is the same for every atom and is a universal 

This elementary quantum of energy involved in the electron shift is without 
doubt the basis of the whole energy quantum hypothesis as applied to absorption 
and radiation, for it can be shown that the whole can be built up from the 
original assumption of the elementary quantum as a specific property of the 
atom. For the sake of convenience only it will be necessary to make use of a 
value for the constant, and the most recent value for this, based on Planck’s 
theory, is 656 x 10°’. Using this value, the elementary quanta already 
calculated, namely, those of hydrogen, oxygen, and sulphur, lie between 
525 x 1076 and 1:65 x 107° erg, corresponding with frequencies between 
819 x 101° and 2°54 x 10!?. 

The difference between this conception and Planck’s theory may be 
emphasised. Whereas according to the latter the frequency is accepted as a 
characteristic of the atom and the quantum is the result of discontinuous 
absorption or emission at that frequency, the present theory assumes the quantum 
of energy as being due to a specific process taking place in the atom and hence 
a fundamental characteristic of the atom, and that the frequency exhibited by 
the atom is established and determined by that process. The present theory, 
therefore, gives a simple physical basis to the energy quantum, 


The first fact to be dealt with is that when two or more atoms unite together 
the resulting molecule becomes endowed with a new frequency which is the 
least common multiple of the frequencies characteristic of the atoms. Leaving 
on one side the cause of the chemical combination, the energy lost in the process 
may be considered. The simplest possible assumption to make is that in the 
synthesis of any one molecule each of the component atoms contributes an equal 
amount of the total energy lost. An elementary atom ex hypothesi can only 
gain or lose energy in elementary quanta, and, further, can only’ enter into 
chemical combination if it already contains energy that can be evolved. Let 
the case be considered of two elementary atoms, the characteristic frequencies 
of which are 9 x 10° and 1°5 x 10", or in wave numbers (1/A) 3 and 5. 
The smallest equal amounts of energy that the two atoms can lose are five ele- 
mentary quanta at the frequency 9 x 101° in the one case, and three elementary 
quanta at the frequency 1°5 x 10% in the other. These two amounts are each 
equal to one quantum measured at the frequency 45 x 101", which is the least 
common multiple of the two atomic frequencies. In this is doubtless to be found 
the key to the first problem—namely, that the true molecular frequency is the 
least common multiple of the frequencies of the atoms in the molecule. 

Further, the gain or loss of energy by a molecule as a whole must be equally 
shared in by the component atoms. When a molecule absorbs or loses energy 
as a whole, it must do so by means of the elementary quanta characteristic of 
its atoms. In the case of the molecule specified above, the smallest amount 
of energy it can gain or lose as a whole ig the sum of five quanta at the frequency 
9 x 10!° and three quanta at the frequency 15 x 10!!. This minimum amount 
of molecular energy is two quanta at the true molecular frequency, and in this 
again is to be found an explanation of the fact that the true molecular frequency 
is the least common multiple of the atomic frequencies. 

It is evident, therefore, that starting from the conception of the elementary 
energy quantum required to shift one electron and making the simple assumption 
that the combining atoms share equally in the energy loss on combination and 
in the future energy changes of the resulting molecule, we arrive at the con- 
ception of molecular quanta, and hence molecular frequency, the latter being 
the least common multiple of the atomic frequencies. 

It can be shown that, when molecules under normal conditions are dealt with, 
one of the most important frequencies they possess is the infra-red fundamental 
frequency, which is an exact multiple of the true molecular frequency. In the 
case of sulphur dioxide the infra-red fundamental is fourteen times the true 
molecular frequency, and in the case of water it is eight times the true molecular 
frequency. It was stated above that the smallest possible equal amounts of 
energy which two or more atoms can evolve when combining together are equal 
to one quantum measured at the frequency which is the least common multiple 
of their atomic frequencies. It does not follow, of course, that the reacting 
atoms only evolve this smallest possible amount of energy. They may evolve 
an amount of energy which is 2, 3, 4, &c., times this smallest quantity, with 
the result that the smallest frequency truly characteristic of the molecule may 
be a multiple of the true molecular frequency. Indeed, it would seem that the 
infra-red fundamental is the frequency which is truly characteristic of the 
freshly synthesised molecule. 

At the commencement the simplest possible case was considered of the com- 
bination of two atoms, each characterised by a single elementary quantum. 
There is no necessity to restrict the conditions in this way, and it is to be 
expected that, at any rate in the atoms of some elements, there will exist more 
than one possibility of shift of the electrons, and that there will be elementary 
quanta of different sizes associated with such atoms. It has already been found 
that two different elementary quanta are associated with the atom of oxygen 
in the water molecule and with the atom of sulphur in the molecule of sulphur 
dioxide. : 

Whilst the establishment of molecular quanta, and hence of molecular 
frequency, is a simple deduction from the conception of elementary atomic 
quanta, it cannot be denied that the molecule may also exhibit those frequencies 
which are characteristic of its component atoms. Although these atoms have 
united together to form the molecule, there is no reason to expect that they have 



Be) eq. 


thereby lost their individuality as far as their powers of absorbing or radiating 
energy are concerned. ‘he conception of the molecular quantum 1s based on 
the assumption that the component atoms can gain or lose elementary quanta 
when in combination. In addition to this, there is definite evidence that the 
molecule exhibits the specific frequencies of its atoms, since, although these 
atomic frequencies have not yet been observed in the long-wave infra-red, they 
are found in combination with the molecular frequencies as subsidiary frequencies 
within the absorption band groups in the intra-red, visible, and ultra-violet 
regions. The question then arises as to the course of events when a molecule 
is exposed to radiation of a frequency that is the same as one of its characteristic 
atomic frequencies which may be active in the extreme infra-red. Let it be 
supposed that the molecule formed by the combination of two elementary atoms 
haying the characteristic frequencies 9 x 10'° and 15 x 101 is exposed to 
monochromatic radiation of the frequency 9 x 10!°. The atom haying this 
frequency will absorb this energy in elementary quanta of 9 x 656 x 10% erg: 
and further, let it be supposed that this atom absorb five such quanta. The 
total quantity of energy now absorbed is equal to the minimum quantity of 
energy which that atom evolves when combining with the atom with characteristic 
frequency 1°5 x 10", and is equal to one molecular quantum at the true molecular 
frequency. If the postulate made at the beginning as to the combination of 
atoms be accepted, then it would seem to follow as a natural consequence that 
the total energy absorbed by the atom can be transferred to or taken over by the 
whole molecule as exactly one true molecular quantum, In fact the molecule 
can obtain one true molecular quantum by the absorption of a whole number of 
elementary quanta by its atoms, the whole number being of course determined 
by the frequencies of the other atoms in the molecule and the least common 
multiple of all the atomic frequencies. Further, there is no reason against 
this process being continuous in the sense that a molecule will be able to gain 
more true molecular quanta than the single one by absorption of the specified 
number of elementary quanta by its atoms. 

Again, this process will be reversible : that is to say, a molecule will be able 
to radiate one or more true molecular quanta in the form of the specified 
number of elementary quanta characteristic of one of its atoms. 

It will be seen that this leads to the conception of critical amounts of energy 
associated with elementary atoms in combination, the critical amount of energy 
of an atom being a whole number of elementary quanta characteristic of that 
atom which in their sum equal one true molecular quantum characteristic of the 
molecule of which that atom forms a part. When an atom is exposed to 
radiation of a frequency equal to its own frequency, it can absorb its elementary 
quanta until its critical quantity is reached, when this critical quantity becomes 
merged into the molecular energy content as one true molecular quantum. 

Amongst the quantitative relationships detailed above was mentioned the fact 
that the central frequencies of all absorption bands, that is to say, all molecular 
frequencies exhibited by a molecule in the visible and ultra-violet, are exact 
multiples of the infra-red fundamental. It is therefore evident that one 
molecular quantum absorbed at one of the molecular frequencies in the visible 
or ultra-violet is equal to an exact number of quanta at the infra-red funda- 
mental. If a molecule absorbs one quantum at one of these higher frequencies, 
this amount of energy can be radiated again as a whole number of quanta at the 
infra-red fundamental, or partly as quanta at this frequency and partly as 
elementary atomic quanta. This is the process underlying the phenomena of 
phosphorescence and fluorescence, and in this particular case the phosphorescence 
will be in the form of infra-red quanta. Further, it is obvious that the 
fluorescence emission need not of necessity be evolved as a whole number of 
molecular quanta at the infra-red fundamental, but may be radiated as one 
molecular quantum at a molecular frequency which is a multiple of the infra-red 
fundamental, the remainder being radiated as molecular quanta at the infra-red 
fundamental or as elementary atomic quanta, For example, if the molecule 
absorbs one molecular quantum at the frequency which is ten times the infra-red 
fundamental, this energy may be evolved as one quantum at the frequency which 
is nine times the infra-red fundamental and one quantum at the infra-red funda- 
mental itself. In such a case the fluorescence will be in the visible or ultra- 


violet region of the spectrum. The factors governing these various alternatives 
are determined by the conditions under which the molecules exist. It will be 
seen from this that a molecule can acquire one or more molecular. quanta at the 
infra-red fundamental in three different ways: by exposure to radiation equal 
to its atomic frequencies, by exposure to radiation of frequency equal to the 
infra-red fundamental, or by exposure to radiation of a frequency which is an 
exact multiple of the infra-red fundamental. 

The next point to be considered is the structure of the absorption bands, that 
is to say, the system of subsidiary frequencies which are always found asso- 
ciated with the true molecular frequency when the absorbing or radiating power 
of molecules is examined at ordinary temperatures. These subsidiary frequencies 
have been attributed by Bjerrum *° to the rotation of the molecules and by 
Kriger?! to their precessional motions. Without discussion in detail it may 
be pointed out that both these theories break down. In the first place neither 
theory takes account of the fact that the subsidiary frequencies are due to the 
atomic frequencies, and in the second place it is necessary for the purpose of 
these theories to postulate impossibly large variations in the values of the 
molecular rotation or molecular precession. 

On the other hand, the conception now put forward of elementary atomic 
quanta of energy, whereby definite atomic frequencies are established, would 
seem capable of affording a very simple and straightforward explanation. More- 
over, this conception leads to the establishment of exact frequencies without 
any possibility of variation. The case may again be considered of the molecule 
formed by the combination of the two elementary atoms for which the elementary 
quanta are 9 X 6:56 x 1077 and 1:°5 x 6°56 x 1016 erg,and which therefore exhibit 
the characteristic frequencies 9 x 101° and 1:5 x 10! respectively. Hx hypothesi 
the elementary quantum is associated with the shift of one electron from one. 
stationary orbit to another, and, of course, there is no reason to assume that 
only one electron can be so shifted. There may be many such electrons which 
can be so shifted, the amount of energy being the same for each; and conse- 
quently it will be possible for one atom to absorb 1, 2, 3, &c., elementary quanta 
in the same unit of time. The atom will therefore exhibit frequencies which 
are 1, 2, 3, &c., times its fundamental frequency. The two atoms specified 
above will in the free state exhibit frequencies of n x 9 x 10!°and n x 1'5 x 10% 
respectively, where n= 1, 2, 3, &c. The molecule formed by the combination 
of these two atoms can also exhibit these frequencies, but now the upper limit 
of n will be fixed by the critical quantity previously defined. Since the least 
common multiple of the two atomic frequencies is 4°5 x 1011, the upper limits 
of n for the two atomic frequency series shown by the molecule will be 4 and 2 
respectively, since when 7 = 5 and 3, the two atomic frequency series will con- 
verge in the true molecular frequency. Perhaps, therefore, the true molecular 
frequency will be better understood as the convergence frequency of the atomic 
frequency series than as the least common multiple of the atomic frequencies. 

We may now consider one of the true molecular frequencies. Since the 
molecule can absorb as a whole one quantum at that frequency, and since also 
each atom within the molecule can absorb one or more elementary quanta, 
there is no reason why the two processes should not be simultaneous. The 
molecule will then absorb in one unit of time an amount of energy equal to the 
sum of one true molecular quantum and one or more elementary quanta. This 
will result in the establishment of the subsidiary frequencies M + nA, where 
M is the true molecular frequency, A is the atomic frequency, and n = 1, 2, 8, &c., 
the upper limit of n being fixed by the critical value as already explained. 

Similarly there will be established the subsidiary frequencies M—nA, for 
the following reason. Let the molecule which is in radiant equilibrium with 
its surroundings absorb one quantum of energy at one of its atomic frequencies. 
In order for it to gain a molecular quantum at one of its true molecular 
frequencies it will now only be necessary for it to absorb the molecular quantum, 
less the atomic quantum already absorbed. It has already been shown how on 
the present conception summation of atomic quanta can take place to form 
molecular quanta ; so it would follow that, after the absorption of a given number 
of elementary quanta beyond that associated with the radiant equilibrium, the 
molecule will be able to absorb the balance necessary to form one molecular 


quantum. In other words, the molecule will be endowed with the frequencies 

Emphasis may be laid on the fact that, under normal conditions, when the 
molecule is in radiant equilibrium with its surroundings the subsidiary frequencies 
M+7A are actually observed; and further, that in these series of subsidiary 
frequencies the maximum observed value of 7 is one Jess than the critical value ; 
that is to say, the subsidiary frequencies associated with two consecutive values 
of the molecular frequency do not overlap. Obviously, if the molecule is screened 
from all external radiation with frequency equal to its atomic frequencies—that 
is to say, it is cooled to low temperatures—the whole of the above deductions 
as to subsidiary frequencies fail, and the subsidiary frequencies must therefore 
vanish. This has been observed, since at very low temperatures only the central 
molecular frequencies remain. 

In the foregoing the simplest case only was dealt with of a binary molecule 
formed by the combination of atoms of two different elements. Exactly the 
same conditions will, of course, obtain in more complex molecules, but added 
to these will be new conditions resulting from the existence of groups of atoms 
within the molecule. For instance, even in the apparently simple case of the 
water molectile the conditions will be more complex, owing to the undoubted 
fact that in this molecule the hydroxyl group exists as an integral portion of 
the molecule. Whilst, of course, the true molecular frequency will be the 
convergence frequency of all the atomic frequencies, it is the subsidiary fre- 
quencies that will exhibit a greater complexity. This complexity, however, is 
only one of degree, and its explanation follows exactly the same principles as 
were laid down for the simplest possible binary molecules. The specific case 
of the water molecule may be discussed in which there are three atomic fre- 
quencies, 1:0635 x 1011, 2:1159 x 1011, and 274531 x 1011. Whilst the true mole- 
cular frequency of the water molecule is the convergence frequency of these 
three, 6°1326 x 10!2, we have also to take into account the intra-molecular fre- 
quency of the OH group. Now in the molecule H—O—H there are two 
frequencies active for oxygen and one for hydrogen, and thus there are two 
possible intra-molecular frequencies for the OH group, depending on which 
oxygen frequency is concerned. In addition, therefore, to the three atomic 
frequency series the molecule will also show intra-molecular or OH series. 
Each of these intra-molecular frequencies is the convergence frequency of two 
atomic series, and will be associated with subsidiary frequencies to form a 
band group. If I be the intra-molecular frequency, the only subsidiary fre- 
quencies associated with I will be given by I-+mA, and I+ nAg, where A, and 
A> are the two atomic frequency series converging at I, and n=1, 2, 3, &c., 
with an upper limit defined by the critical value. There will also exist two 
series of frequencies, I, 21: 31,1, &c., and Iz, 212, 312, &c., each associated 
with its subsidiary frequencies. These intra-molecular frequencies will converge 
at the true molecular frequency. 

In the case of the water molecule there are two intra-molecular frequency 
series, namely 7-5 x 101, which is the convergence frequency of the atomic 
frequencies, 1:0635 x 101! and 2°1159 x 1011, and 1-7301 x 1012, which is the 
convergence frequency of the atomic frequencies 21159 x 1011 and 2°4531 x 1011, 

When the subsidiary frequencies associated with the given true molecular 
frequency are considered, instead of only the subsidiary frequencies M+7A, 
there will exist as subsidiary frequencies M+nI-+mA, where n and m=0, 1, 2, 
&c., each having its own critical limit, I is one or other of the intra-molecular 
frequencies, and A stands for the two atomic frequencies which have I as their 
convergence frequency. This will obviously result in the whole group of sub- 
sidiary frequencies associated with the given molecular frequency being divided 
into sub-groups. The central sub-group will be given by n = 0, and the central 
lines of the sub-groups will be given by m = 0. This is exactly the structure 
that has been observed in the case of water and sulphur dioxide, both of which 
molecules have three atomic frequencies. Perhaps the most striking experi- 
mental confirmation is to be found in the fact that in any one sub-group the 
subsidiary frequencies are formed from only those atomic frequencies which 
have the intra-molecular frequency as their convergence frequency. None of 
the previous theories are able to account for this selective association of the 
atomic frequencies. 


With still more complex molecules it becomes necessary to accept the exist- 
ence of small atomic groupings within the principal groupings. Without going 
into the resulting system in detail it may be stated that this will result in 
the sub-division of the sub-groups into smajler sub-groups. It is of considerable 
interest to note that the phosphorescence and absorption bands shown, by certain 
uranyl compounds exhibit this type of structure.? 

Before entering further into the quantitative relationships one point arising 
from the foregoing discussion of energy quanta may be mentioned. It has been 
shown that in the water molecule the oxygen atom exhibits two characteristic 
frequencies and the hydrogen atom one, whilst in sulphur dioxide the oxygen 
atoms exhibit one and the sulphur atom two characteristic frequencies. It is 
difficult to avoid the conclusion that the characteristic atomic trequency is the 
basis of the valency of that atom. Thus a univalent atom may be one for 
which there is only one possible shift of its electrons, with a bivalent atom 
there may be two possible shifts, and so on. From this it would also follow 
that the numerical size of the elementary quantum associated with the atoms 
of an element determines the position of that element in the series of electro- 
positivity. Obviously the larger the elementary quantum associated with an 
atom the greater will be the energy given out when that atom enters into 
combination. Further, when a multivalent atom enters into successive com- 
bination with atoms of a given univalent element, its largest elementary quantum 
will be concerned when it combines with the first atom. ‘I'his will be followed 
by the next largest, and so on. This will mean that the ‘strength’ of its 
different valencies will be different, and the individual bonds with the various 
atoms of the univalent element will require different amounts of energy to 
resolve them. 

There now remains to be considered the origin of chemical reaction. The 
relationships between the frequencies shown by a molecule and its component 
atoms have been discussed, but nothing has been said as to why atoms combine 
together and why certain specific properties are associated with the molecules 
produced. It would seem that the key to this problem is to be found in the 
electromagnetic force fields of the atoms. It is evident that, according to 
the modern view of atomic structure, a central positive nucleus with negative 
electrons in rotation round it, each atom must form the centre of an electro- 
magnetic field of force. These force fields were first dealt with by Humphreys,?? 
who showed that they are capable of giving a quantitative explanation of the 
Zeeman effect and also of the pressure-shitt of spectrum lines. He deduced 
the fact that two atoms will attract one another when they approach in such 
a way that the direction of their electronic motions is the same, and will repel 
one another when their electronic motions are in opposite directions. Each 
atom therefore possesses two faces, and when one pair of faces comes together 
they repel one another, and when the other pair comes together they attract 
one another. In other words, an atom forms the centre of an electromagnetic 
field of force, the opposite poles of which are localised in two opposite faces 
of the atom. 

Let it be supposed that two atoms of different elements are brought together 
in such a way that their mutually attracting faces come together. They will 
at once tend to form an addition complex which can lose energy in the 
manner already described. ‘The two atoms radiate equal amounts of energy 
as a whole number of elementary quanta whereby the resulting molecule becomes 
endowed with the frequency based on the least common multiple of the atomic 
frequencies. This molecule is now rendered a stable entity, and can only be 
resolved into its atoms by absorbing an amount of energy equal to that lost 
in its formation. This quantity of energy consists of a definite number of true 
molecular quanta. 

As will be noticed, however, in this suggestion, that the reactivity of atoms 
for one another is due to the attraction of their respective force fields, and 
that their combination consists in their joint loss of equal amounts of energy, 
no account has been taken of the other faces of these combining atoms. Whereas 
the combination of the atoms produces a molecule characterised by a specific 
energy quantum, it is not possible to consider that the force fields due to the 
external atomic faces can exist without influence on one another. These 
external force lines must condense to form an external molecular force field, and 


in this process energy must be evolved. It was not possible previously to deter- 
mine the amount of energy lost by each molecule in this process, but the theory 
of elementary and molecular quanta put forward now enables this to be done 
with accuracy. It was shown above that a freshly synthesised molecule is 
characterised by a definite molecular quantum, and hence by a specified frequency 
in the short wave infra-red, which has been called the infra-red fundamental 
frequency. When a freshly synthesised molecule loses energy as a whole it 
must do so in quanta at the infra-red fundamental, and thus it would follow 
that, when the external force fields of the component atoms of a freshly syn- 
thesised molecule condense together to form ‘the molecular force field, the 
system loses energy in quanta at the infra-red fundamental of that molecule. 
Clearly, the molecule itself will not suffer any Joss of individuality as far as 
its characteristic frequencies are concerned. None of the deductions from the 
conception of elementary and molecular quanta made above will be contra- 
dicted, and the only change accompanying the formation of the molecular force 
field will be the endowment of the system with an additional molecular frequency 
which is an exact multiple of the infra-red fundamental. Let it be supposed 
that in the formation of its molecular force field a given molecule loses one 
molecular quantum at the infra-red fundamental. If the freshly synthesised 
molecule were allowed to absorb one quantum at the infra-red fundamental it 
would become endowed with certain properties. If now it is required to bring 
the molecule with its molecular force field established by the loss of one quantum 
into this physical state it will be necessary to supply it with energy equal to 
two energy quanta at the infra-red fundamental. There can be no reason against 
the molecule and its force field absorbing both these quanta simultaneously. 
and therefore it may be concluded that the system of molecule and force field 
becomes endowed with a new and additional frequency which is exactly twice 
the infra-red fundamental. Similarly, it follows that, if the force-field con- 
densation proceeds to the extent defined by the loss of tao molecular quanta at 
the infra-red fundamental, the molecule and its force field will be endowed with 
a new and additional frequency which is exactly three times the infra-red 
fundamental. Generally, if the infra-red fundamental of a freshly synthesised 
molecule be denoted by M, and if in the formation of the force field 2 quanta 
are evolved at that frequency. the system will be characterised by two molecular 
frequencies, namely M and M(x+1). Since the external atomic fields are bound 
to undergo a certain amount of condensation, it is evident that the molecule 
must exist in one of a number of possible phases, each molecular phase being 
defined by the number of molecular quanta lost in the force-field condensation 
and characterised by a specific frequency which is an exact multiple of the 
infra-red fundamental. 

The initial assumption was made that the chemical reactivity of atoms is due 
to the attraction exerted by their electromagnetic fields. As the result of this 
attraction the atoms form an addition complex which constitutes the first stage 
in the reaction between them, the second stage being the joint loss of equal 
amounts of energy by all the atoms whereby the freshly synthesised molecule 
is formed with its infra-red fundamental. Similarly the reactivity of molecules 
will be a function of their force fields, and the first stage of any reaction between 
two or more molecules will be the formation of the addition complex due to the 
attraction between their respective force fields. It follows, therefore, that the 
reactivity of a molecule will depend on the molecular phase in which it exists, 
and, further, the creater the extent to which the condensation in the molecular 
force field has taken place the smaller will be the reactivity. The phase in 
which a molecule exists is governed by the nature of the external force fields 
of its atoms. The more equally balanced these are the greater will be the 
condensation that takes place between them. The particular phase assumed by 
a molecule will depend on the external conditions, such as temperature, nature 
of solvent, &c. 

The experimental evidence in favour of the existence of these molecular 
phases is exceedingly strong. It is not possible to give here a detailed account 
of this evidence, but two or three of the most striking observations may be 
mentioned. For instance, it is common knowledge that substances which pos- 
sess very small reactivity are characterised by molecular frequencies which are 


large multiples of their infra-red fundamentals and lie in the extreme ultra- 
violet. The converse of this is also true that substances with measurable 
reactivity are characterised by frequencies which relatively are smaller multiples 
of the infra-red fundamental. Again, it is possible by changing the external 
conditions of temperature or solvent to change the molecular frequency ex- 
hibited by a given substance, and in some cases as many as six different mole- 
cular frequencies have been brought into play, each of which is an exact multiple 
of the infra-red fundamental of that substance. This means that six different 
molecular phases of the same compound have been observed. Then, again, it has 
been proved that a particular frequency is associated with a specific chemical 
reactivity, or, in other words, a particular molecular phase is endowed with its 
own reactivity. 

An interesting point arises at once when the force fields of free elementary 
atoms are considered. It has been assumed that in a molecular force field the 
force lines due to the external faces of its atoms undergo condensation to form 
a condensed molecular force field. It is manifest if an atom consist of a 
central positive nucleus with a single plane ring of electrons that the force 
lines at the two faces of that atom will be exactly equal and opposite, that 
condensation must occur to form an atomic field of force, and that this con- 
densation will be very great with the evolution of a large number of atomic 
quanta. Such an atom will under ordinary circumstances possess little or 
no power of attracting other atoms, and hence will have no measurable chemical 
reactivity. It is possible that the atoms of the inactive gases, helium, neon, 
&e., are of this type. On the other hand, if there exist more than one plane 
orbit of electrons, a condition of asymmetry will be set up in the atomic force 
field, with the result that the complete condensation to form a non-reactive 
atomic field is no longer possible. It does not seem improbable that in the 
various types of asymmetry likely to exist the explanation is to be found of 
the various properties of elementary molecules which are familiar to the chemist. 
_ The extreme conditions resulting from this asymmetry would be (1) the non- 

reactive diatomic molecule such as H,, N,, &c.: (2) the highly reactive mon- 
atomic molecule such as Na, K, &c.; (3) the highly reactive diatomic molecule 
such as F',; (4) the non-reactive polyatomic molecule such as those of carbon. 
Apart from this possibility, which need not now be discussed, it is necessary 
to take into account the fact that at any rate in the case of elementary molecules 
containing more than two atoms the different molecular phases may be capable 
of separate existence. Smits has put forward the theory that the different 
allotropic modifications of an element are equilibrium mixtures of different 
molecular species of that element. Thus the various allotropic modifications 
of sulphur are equilibrium mixtures of some or all of four molecular species 
of sulphur known as §,, §,, S,, and §,. There seems little doubt that 
what Smits calls molecular species are in reality four different molecular 
_ phases of sulphur, which differ in their energy content by a definite number 
of quanta at the infra-red fundamental of sulphur. It is of considerable interest 
to note that each of the four varieties of the sulphur molecule exhibits a 
different molecular frequency in the visible or ultra-violet region, and that 
thev therefore conform to the definition of molecular phases. 

_ The molecular phase hypothesis throws a considerable light on the mechanism 
of chemical reaction, and enables accurate calculations to be made of the com- 
plete energy changes which are involved in any reaction. In the first place, 
the calculation may be made of the total energy which is evolved during the 
combination of elementary atoms to form molecules which are in radiant 
equilibrium with their surroundings. 

Let the case be considered of the combination of atoms of different elements, 
and further let the characteristic frequencies of these atoms be 910°, 1:°2x 1011, 

15 x 1011, and 2°1 x 101! respectivelv. The least common multiple of these 
four frequencies is 1:26 x 1013, and this therefore will be the true molecular 
frequency of the resulting molecule. On the assumption made in the preceding 
paper that an equal amount of energy is contributed for each atomic frequency, 
the smallest equal amount evolved for each atomic.frequency is 1:26 x 6:56 ~ 1114 
or 82656 x 1074 ergs. The total quantity of. energy evolved therefore in the 
actual formation of each molecule will be 4 x 82656 x 10°!4 or 330624 x 1075 ergs, 


which will result in the establishment of the infra-red fundamental 
5°04 x 10%. Since one quantum at this frequency equals the sum total of 
energy evolved, the absorption of one energy quantum at this frequency will 
result in the molecule just being resolved back again into its atoms, 

The next stage in the process will be the formation of the molecular force 
field, and let this be accompanied by the loss of 20 quanta at the infra-red 
fundamental 5:04 x 1015. As shown above, the molecular system will now be 
endowed with an additional characteristic frequency, 5-04 x 21 x 10 or 
1:0584 x 101°, which lies in the ultra-violet region of the spectrum. The energy 
lost by each molecule during the condensation of its force field will be 
504 x 20 x 656 x 1074 or 661248 x 107% ergs. The total energy therefore 
evolved in the two processes is the sum of 330624 x 10° ergs evolved in the com- 
bination of the atoms and 6:61248 x 101? ergs evolved during the condensation to 
form the molecular force field, which amounts to 6943104 x 107? ergs. This 
amount of energy, however, is equal to one quantum at the frequency 
1:0584 x 1015, which is characteristic of the molecular phase. As this is obvi- 
ously true whatever may have been the number of quanta at the infra-red 
fundamental lost during the formation of the molecular force field, the general 
conclusion is reached that one energy quantum measured at the largest fre- 
quency characteristic of the molecule is just sufficient to resolve that molecule 
into its atoms. This is a general conclusion which includes Einstein’s photo- 
chemical law. 

The values taken above of atomic frequencies,* infra-red fundamental, and 
molecular phase frequency closely approximate to those observed with many 
compounds. It will be seen that the amount of energy evolved in the com- 
plete process may be very large, and for a gram-molecule amounts in the above 
instance to about 102,320 calories. It must, of course, be remembered that in 
any reaction the observed heat evolved is less than the total amount evolved 
in the formation of the molecular systems of the products by the amount 
necessary to resolve the initial substance or substances into atoms. 

An important deduction from this molecular phase theory may be made as 
regards the energy changes involved in chemical reaction. It is obvious that 
in any reaction in which the first stage is the resolution of the molecule into 
its atoms the energy necessary for this first stage can at once be found from 
the frequency of the phase in which that molecule exists. | Unfortunately, 
there does not seem to be known at present a single instance of a simple 
reaction in which the molecular phase frequencies have been accurately 
measured, both for the original substance and the products, and consequently 
it is not possible at the present time accurately to calculate the net change of 
energy observed in any reaction. On the other hand, in the vast majority of 
chemical reactions the reacting molecules are not resolved into their atoms in 
the first stage of the process. It has been shown in a number of cases that it 
is only necessary to bring the molecules into a particular phase in order to 
enable them to enter into the desired reaction. A very typical example of the 
difference in reactivity shown by the different molecular phases of the same 
molecule is afforded by benzaldehyde. In alcoholic solution this substance ex- 
hibits two molecular frequencies in the ultra-violet, and therefore two mole- 
cular phases co-exist. It is well known that in alcoholic solution benzaldehyde 
is readily oxidised by gaseous oxygen to benzoic acid, and that it is not con. 
verted to benzaldehydesulphonic acid when sulphuric acid ig added to the 

% In the example given simple numbers have been used for the atomic fre- 
quencies in order to avoid complexity in calculation. It is perhaps worth 
while to point out here that there are certain indications that the fundamental 
frequencies of the atoms of different elements are possibly connected by simple 
arithmetical relations. A sufficient number of these atomic frequencies has not 
yet been computed, owing to the dearth of accurate measurements of the 
subsidiary frequencies of simple molecules, to justify any conclusions being 
made. It is of some interest, however, to note that in sulphur dioxide the 
oxygen frequency 2-4531 x 10! is almost exactly three times the sulphur 
frequency 8:19 x 10!°. and that in the case of the water molecule the atomic 
frequency 2°1159 x 101! is very nearly twice the atomic frequency 1:0635 x 1011, 



solution. The reaction with oxygen, therefore, is characteristic of one or both 
of the two molecular phases present in alcoholic solution. If benzaldehyde is 
dissolved in concentrated sulphuric acid it exhibits two new molecular fre- 
quencies, one in the visible and the other in the ultra-violet region. T:wo 
further molecular phases, therefore, exist in solution in sulphuric acid. In this 
case the benzaldehyde is no longer oxidised by oxygen, but is readily converted 
to the sulphonic acid. 

Now the question arises as to the amount of energy necessary to convert 
one molecular phase into another and the mechanism whereby this energy is 
supplied. ‘The amount of energy required per molecule is readily calculated, 
and is equal to one or more quanta measured at the infra-red fundamental of 
that molecule. If the frequency characteristic of the first phase is « times 
the infra-red fundamental and the required phase is characterised by a frequency 
which is 7 times the infra-red fundamental, then the energy required for each 
molecule is x—y quanta at the infra-red fundamental. Obviously the molecular 
system can absorb this energy when exposed to radiation of a frequency equal 
to its infra-red fundamental, or, as explained above, it may absorb it at any of 
the frequencies characteristic of its component atoms. Lastly, the molecule 
mav absorb one quantum at its characteristic phase frequency, and under 
ordinary circumstances this energy will again be entirely radiated as quanta 
at a lower phase frequency, the infra-red fundamental, or the atomic frequencies. 
If there is present a substance capable of reacting with a less condensed phase. 
then the molecule is converted into that phase and reacts, the balance of 
energy being evolved as infra-red radiation. The essential point is that the 
necessary amount of energy to change the molecular phase is x—y quanta at 
the infra-red fundamental, and that when one quantum is absorbed at the phase 
frequency the excess energy over and above that required is radiated. The 
change of molecules from one phase to another under the influence of light is 
readily enough shown experimentally, but it is necessary to stabilise the second 
phase in some way, since otherwise it returns instantaneously to the first phase. 
An interesting example is furnished by trinitrobenzene. an alcoholic solution 
of which contains a molecular phase characterised by a frequency in the ultra- 
violet. A piperidine solution contains a molecular phase of trinitrobenzene 
which is characterised by a frequency in the blue and the solution is deep red 
in colour. This second phase, therefore, is favoured by piperidine. Tf to an 
alcoholic solution of trinitrobenzene a small quantity of piperidine is added, not 
more than one molecule of piperidine to 10 molecules of trinitrobenzene, the 
solution remains perfectly colourless. On exposure to light of the frequency 
characteristic of the phase in alcohol the solution turns red, owing to the 
formation of the second molecular phase, and the solution slowly becomes 
colourless again when placed in the dark. 

There is no need to enter into a discussion of the application in detail of 
this theory to the quantitative relations involved in the energy changes of 
chemical reaction. It is obvious that the theory renders possible the calcula- 
tion of the complete energy changes, and this aspect of the phenomena may be 
left. on one side. From the point of view of absorption spectra the essential 
fact is that the theory leads to the conclusion that a molecule must exist in one 
of a number of possible phases, each of which is characterised by its own 
absorption band in the visible or ultra-violet region of the spectrum. It has 
been proved that a molecule can be brought from one phase to another by the 
gain of a whole number of fundamental infra-red quanta and that this can be 
brought about by exposure to radiant energy at a frequency characteristic of the 
molecule. Reference has already been made to the fact that it is possible to 
change the nhase in which a molecule exists by the use of a suitable. solvent, 
and indeed it is to this effect of a solvent that the variation in the absorption 
spectra of many compounds is due. 

In order to understand this effect of a solvent. it is necessary to consider the 
condensation of the molecular force fields a little more in detail. From what 
has already been said it is clear that this condensation will proceed to the 
farthest possible extent. In the case of a molecule in which the external force 
fields of the atoms are well balanced the condensation will proceed far with 
the establishment of a highly eondensed field characterised by an absorption 
hand in the extreme ultra-violet. On the other hand, if the external force fields 


are not balanced the condensation will not be so great, and a balance of force 
lines of one type will remain uncompensated. If this balance be removed in 
some way then there will be nothing to prevent the condensation from proceed- 
ing further with the escape of more fundamental infra-red quanta and the 
formation of a more highly condensed phase. It may be noted in passing that 
an uncompensated balance of force lines remaining after the condensation of 
the force field has take place is in all probability the origin of what is known 
to chemists as residual affinity. Let the case be considered of a molecule which 
possesses residual affinity of an acid type, and let this molecule be brought 
into the neighbourhood of another molecule which possesses a force field basic 
in type. The two will together form a complex, and since the residual affinity 
of the first is now compensated there is no reason why its force field should 
not undergo further condensation with the evolution of one or more funda- 
mental infra-red quanta. Provided that the fundamental infra-red frequencies 
of the two molecules are similar, these quanta may be absorbed by the second 
molecule, which is thereby converted into a Jess condensed phase. The 
similarity of the infra-red fundamental frequencies necessary for this trans- 
ference of energy quanta is very probable. because, in the first place, observa- 
tion shows that the fundamental infra-red frequencies of at any rate organic 
compounds are very near together. In the second place, it has been found 
that when two substances with not very different fundamental infra-red fre- 
quencies form a complex, this complex becomes endowed with a new funda- 
mental infra-red. frequency of its own which lies between those of its com- 
ponents. This is of material importance, not only because it shows that the 
complex is a definite entity, but also because the mechanism for transference 
of fundamental infra-red quanta from one component to the other is perfect. 
Tt, would seem that in this process is to be found the explanation of the change 
of phase which frequently takes place when organic compounds pass into 

It is not possible to avoid mentioning the bearing of this upon the whole 
problem of catalysis. It has already been stated that each phase of a given 
molecule is endowed with its own reactivity, and that in order to cause 
a molecule to enter into a specific reaction it is necessary to bring it into 
the proper phase. This. change of phase may be produced by the action of 
light, in which case the reaction is called a nhotochemical one. On the other 
hand. the change in phace may be produced by a material substance which 
is called a catalyst. The substance is a catalyst because it increases the 
velocity of the particular reaction. owing to the fact that it brings more 
molecules into the reactive nhase than would otherwise exist in that phase. 
Not the least interesting anvlication of the nresent theory is to the phenomenon 
of catalvsis, a phenomenon which has not hitherto found a completely satisfactory 

After what has been stated of the existence of molecular phases, each with 
its own characteristic frequency in the visible or ultra-violet. a frequency 
which is an exact multiple of the infra-red fundamental, it is perhaps scarcelv 
necessary to discuss many of the observations of the absorption snectra of 
organic compounds, since the application of the theorv is obvious. Tn order 
to illustrate this avplication, however, some of the observations recorded in 
the earlier nages of this report may he considered, and the case of ethyl aceto- 
acetate and its derivatives may be selected first. Jt was shown quite clearly 
that neither the oricinal theory of tautomeric equilibrium nor the Hantzsch 
six-membered ‘ring’ formula can exnlain the absorvtion band shown by the 
sodium salt. The absorption band-is due to the fact that the substance in 
the presence of a basic solvent is changed into a phase the characteristic 
absorption band of which lies in the ultra-violet region. This alteration of 
phase is ‘characteristic of the ketonic form. since the disubstituted compound. 
ethyl dimethvlacetoacetate, shows the same band when dissolved in a basic 
solvent. ' It is noteworthv that exactly the same bands are shown when these 
compounds are dissolved in piperidine. 

The reason why the two derivatives, ethyl B-ethoxycrotonate and ethvl 
dimethylacetoacetate, show only general ahsorption in alcoholic solution is 
because they exist in a phase the characteristic band of which lies in the extreme 

1920 » 


ultra-violet region beyond that reached with a quartz spectrograph working 
in air. Lastly, the incipient or very shallow absorption band shown by ethyl 
B-ethoxycrotonate in the . presence of acid 1s due to the fact that relatively 
few molecules are brought into a less condensed! phase. by the action of the 
ak must be clearly understood that the statement that a compound only 
shows general absorption is very misleading, because it only means that no 
absorption band is exhibited by that compound between the spectral limits of 
7000 and 2100 Angstréms. Such substances will certainly be found to exhibit 
selective absorption when investigations are made in the very extreme ultra- 
violet. There is a very fertile field of research in this direction by the use 
of a vacuum spectrograph with a fluorite prism or a grating, in order to 
obviate the absorption due to air and quartz. Some preliminary investigations 
have already been made by Stark, who found evidences of selective absorption 
in this region by some of the so-called diactinic substances. . 

Again, the explanation of the results recorded in the examination of the 
aromatic aminoaldehydes and aminoketones is very simple. These compounds 
show one absorption band. in alcoholic solution, a second in the presence of a 
trace of acid, and a third in the presence of a great mass of acid, the frequency 
of the second being the smallest and that of the third being the greatest. The 
molecules exist in three different phases under the three conditions.. Similarly 
the variety of absorption bands which Hantzsch found certain substances to 
exhibit in different solvents is due to a variety of phases of the same molecule. 
Thus diphenylyioluric acid can be brought into several different phases by 
alkali according to the chemical strength of LiOH, NaOH, KOH, RbOH, 
CsOH. Further, a considerable variety of phases of trinitrobenzene, picric acid 
and its ether trinitroanisole, can be produced by the use of solvents of different 
basicity, such as water, alcohol, pyridine, piperidine, dimethylaniline, and 
alcoholic sodium ethoxide.24 The case of trinitrobenzene and also of trinitro- 
toluene is interesting, for it is possible with these two compounds not. only 
to obtain them in highly coloured molecular phases by solution in_ basic 
solvents, but also to prepare these phases in the pure state. The coloured 
liquid phase of trinitrotoluene is well known to those engaged in the manu 
facture of this compound. The corresponding phase of trinitrobenzene can be 
obtained by dissolving the compound in piperidine. On pouring this solution 
into excess af hydrochloric acid the trinitrobenzene is precipitated as a red 
solid, and after drying the colourless form may be dissolved in ether or benzene, 
leaving the red form. A solution of this in alcohol shows the same absorption 
band as does the piperidine solution of trinitrobenzene. 

There indeed is little doubt that the existence of a compound in two or more 
forms, as is frequently the case in organic chemistry, means the isolation of two 
or more different molecular phases of the same compound. One of the most 
interesting cases of the preparation of a molecular phase less condensed than 
the ordinary phase is the so-called aci-ethers of the nitrophenols.2> These com- 
pounds on the basis of the quinonoid theory were considered to have the 
quinonoid formula typified by 

O= ont 
\ (0) 

put the only evidence on which this formula was based was the instability of the 
compounds and their visible colour. They are extraordinarily unstable and 
change at once under the influence of certain solvents into the normal forms. 
‘In the light of present-day knowledge there is not the slightest doubt that they 
are simply less condensed phases of the nitrophenol ethers, having the usually 
-aecénted formule. 

‘Reference was made previously to the quinonoid explanation of the highly 
coloured hydrochloride of dimethylaminoazobenzene. This again is another 
‘example of the conversion of a weak base into a less condensed phase by: the 
-addition’ of acid ‘such as occurs with the aminoaldehydes and aminoketones. It 
was ‘pointed out ‘above that the quinonoid explanation fails because a similar 


change in absorption takes place with benzeneazophenyltrimethylammonium: 
iodide in the presence of acid, although the change is less obvious to the eye.” 
The most serious criticism of the quinonoid explanation is to be found in the 
fact that in concentrated acid the colour is not so intense as in dilute acid, for 
it hardly seems scientific to state that a particular configuration is favoured by 
acid and then to have to agree to a change from that configuration to another: 
when more acid is added. Here again as with the aminoaldehydes three molecular: 
phases exist, one in alcohol, one in dilute acid, and one in strong acid, the 
primary structure of the molecule being the same in all three. A very: analogous 
case is pararosaniline, which with one equivalent of acid gives a very marked 
colour, but in the presence of excess of acid the colour and absorption are 
different. Three phases again are formed, one in alcohol, one in dilute acid, and 
one in concentrated acid. poe 

In all probability the above instances are sufficient to indicate the application 
of the theory of molecular phases to absorption spectra. In conclusion it may 
be claimed for the theory that it attempts to co-ordinate on a definite physical 
basis all absorption spectra observations over the whole spectrum between the 
extreme limits of wave-length 1000u and O‘lu, and that these attempts seem 
to meet with considerable success. 


- Hartley, Dobbie, and Lauder, ‘ Trans.,’ 81, 929 (1902). 

. Hartley and Dobbie, ‘ Trans.,’ 75, 640 (1899). 

. Hartley, Dobbie, and Paliatseas, ‘ Trans.,’ 77, 839 (1900). 

. Baly and Desch, ‘ Trans.,’ 85, 1029 (1904) ; 87, 766 (1905). 

. Baly and Collie, ‘ Trans.,’ 87, 1332 (1905). 

Baly and Stewart, ‘ Trans.,’ 89, 502 (1906). 

. Baly, Marsden, and Stewart, ‘ Trans.,’ 89, 966 (1906). 

. Lowry and Desch, ‘ Trans.,’ 95, 807 (1909). 

F ate ‘Ber.,’ 43, 3049 (1910); 44, 1771 (1911); 45, 559 (1912); 48, 772 

. Hantzsch and Colleagues, ‘ Ann.,’ 384, 135 (1911); Ber., 41, 1204 (1908); 42, 
68, 889, 1216, 2119, 2129 (1909) ; 43, 45, 68, 106, 1651, 1662, 1685, 2129, 2512, 
3049 (1910); 44, 1771, 1783 (1911); 45, 85, 553, 559, 3011 (1912); 46, 1537, 
3570 (1913); 48, 158, 167, 772, 797, 1407 (1915); 49, 213, 226, 511 (1916); 
50, 1413, 1422 (1917); 52, 493, 509, 1535, 1544 (1919); ‘ Zeit. phys. Chem., 
84, 321; 86,624 (1913). 

11. Purvis, ‘Trans.,’ 97, 692 (1910) ; Baly and Tryhorn, ‘Phil. Mag.,’ 31, 417 (1916). 

12. Baly and Marsden, ‘ Trans.,’ 98, 2108 (1908). 

13. Baly and Rice, ‘ Trans.,’ 101, 1475 (1912). 

14. Baly, ‘ Phil. Mag.,’ 2, 632 (1914); ‘ Astrophys. J.,’ 742, 4 (1915). 

15. Baly and Tryhorn, ‘ Phil. Mag.,’ 31, 417 (1916). 

16. Garrett, ‘ Phil. Mag.,’ 31, 505 (1916) ; Baly and Garrett, ibid., 31, 512 (1916). 

17. Baly, ‘ Phil. Mag.,’ 39, 565 (1920). 

18. Sleator, ‘ Astrophys. J.,’ 48, 125 (1918). 

19. Baly, ‘ Phil. Mag.,’ 40, 1, 15 (1920). 

20. Bjerrum, ‘ Nernst Festschrift,’ page 90 (1912). 

21. Kriiger, ‘ Ann. der Phys.,’ 50, 346; 51, 450 (1916). 

22. Nichols and Merritt, ‘ Phys. Rev.,’ 6, 630 (1915); 9, 113 (1917). 

23. Humphreys, ‘ Astrophys. J.,’ 33, 233 (1906). 

24. Baly and Rice, ‘ Trans.,’ 103, 2085 (1913). 

25. Hantzsch and Gorke, ‘ Ber.,’ 39, 1073 (1906). 

26. Baly and Hampson, ‘ Trans.,’ 107, 248 (1915), 



R 2 



Report rm 1916. 


Acetic acid and salts. Hantzsch. ‘ Ber.,’ 50, 1422 (1917). 

Acetone. Lifschitz. ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 16, 140 (1916). 

Acetylenedicarboxylic acid. Macbeth and Stewart. ‘ Trans.,’ 111,829 (1917). 
Alizarin. Meek. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 969 (1917). 

Alizarin-blue. Meek. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 969 (1917). 

Alizarin-Bordeaux. Meek. ‘Trans.,’ 111, 969 (1917). 

Alizarin-cyanine. Meek. ‘Trans.,’ 111, 969 (1917). 

Aminoazobenzene. Ghosh and Watson. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 815 (1917). 
Anthragallol. Meek. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 969 (1917). 

-Aurin. Ghosh and Watson. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 815 (1917). 


Behenolic acid. Macbeth and Stewart. ‘Trans.,’ 111, 829 (1917). 
Benzeneazoanthranol. Sircar. ‘Trans.,’ 109, 757 (1916). 
Benzene-l-azo-4-anthrol. Sircar. ‘ Trans.,’ 109,757 (1916). 
Benzeneazocatechol. Ghosh and Watson. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 815 (1917). 
Benzeneazo-1.5-dihydroxynaphthalene. Ghosh and Watson. ‘Trans.,’ 111, 815 
Benzene-l-azo-4-naphthol. Sircar. ‘Trans.,’ 109, 757 (1916). 
Benzeneazo-a-naphthol. Ghosh and Watson. ‘Trans.,’ 111, 815 (1917). 
Benzeneazo-8-naphthol. Ghosh and Watson. ‘Trans.,’ 111, 815 (1917). 
Benzeneazo-8-naphthylamine. Ghosh and Watson, ‘'Trans.,’ 111, 815 (1917). 
Benzeneazophenol. Ghosh and Watson. ‘Trans.,’ 111, 815 (1917), 
Sircar. ‘ Trans.,’ 109, 757 (1916). 
Benzeneazopyrogallol. Ghosh and Watson. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 815 (1917). 
Benzeneazoquinol. Ghosh and Watson. . ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 815 (1917). 
Benzeneazoresorcinol. Ghoshand Watson. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 815 (1917). 
Benzene- 1-azo-1'.2'.3'.4'-tetrahydro-4-naphthol. Sircar. ‘ Trans.,’ 109, 757 (1916). 
Benzoic acid. Ley. ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 18, 178 (1918). 
p-Bromobenzene-1l-azo-4-anthrol. Sirear. ‘ Trans.,’ 109, 757 (1916). 
p-Bromobenzene-]-azo-4-naphthol. Sircar. ‘ Trans.,’ 109, 757 (1916). 
p- Bromobenzeneazophenol, Sirear. ‘ Trans.,’ 109,757 (1916). 
p-Bromobenzene- l-azo-1’.2'.3'.4'-tetrahydro-4-naphthol. Sirear. ‘ Trans.,’ 109, 757 
Bromodinitrotriphenylmethane. Hantzsch and Hein. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 493 (1919). 


Chloranil. Lifschitz. ‘ Ber.,’ 49, 2050 (1916). 
Chrysoidine. Ghosh and Watson. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 815 (1917). 
Cinnamic acid. Ley. ‘ Ber.,’ 51, 1808 (1918). 
Py » Ley. ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 18, 178 (1918). 
a + Macbeth and Stewart. * Trans.,’ 111, 829 (1917). 
65 Stobbe. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 1021 (1919). 
Cinnamylideneacetic acid. Macbeth and Stewart. ‘Trans.,’ 111, 829 (1917). 
Cobalt acetate. Ley and Ficken. ‘ Ber.,’ 50, 1123 (1917). 
Cobalt picolate. Ley and Ficken. ‘ Ber.,’ 50, 1123 (1917). 
Crystal violet. Hantzsch. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 509 (1919). 
“9 a Kehrmann and Sandoz. ‘ Ber.,’ 51, 915 (1918). 
ef SS derivatives. Kehrmann and Sandoz. ‘ Ber.,’ 51, 915 (1918). 
nitrile of. Lifschitz. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 1919 (1919). 
a and Cyanopyronin Dye-stuffs. Kehrmann and Sandoz. ‘Ber.,’ 53, 
63 (1920 



4.4’-Diaminoazobenzene. Ghosh and Watson. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 815 (1917). 

Dibenzyl. Ley. ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 18, 178 (1918). 

Diethylthiazin bromide. Kehrmann. ‘ Ber.,’ 49, 2831 (1916). 

1.4-Dihydroxyanthraquinone. Meek. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 969 (1917). 

3.4-Dihydroxymalachite-green. Ghosh and Watson. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 815 (1917). 

Diiodoacetylene. Macbeth and Stewart. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 829 (1917). 

Diiodoethylene. Macbeth and Stewart. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 829 (1917). 

p-p'-Dimethoxyfuchsonedimethylimonium chloride. Hantzsch. ‘Ber.,’ 52, 509 

Dimethyl sulphide. Hantzsch. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 1544 (1919). 

Dimethylaminoazobenzene. Hantzsch. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 509 (1919). 

Dimethylaniline. Ley. ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 18, 178 (1918). 

Dimethyldiacetylene. Macbeth and Stewart. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 829 (1917). 

Dimethylpyrone. Hantzsch. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 1535 (1919). 

Dimethylthiazin perchlorate. Kehrmann. ‘ Ber.,’ 49, 2831 (1916). 

Dimethyl-o-toluidine. Ley. ‘Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 18, 178 (1918). 

4.5-Dinitro-3-acetylaminoveratrole. Gibson, Simonsen, and Rau. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 69 

5.6-Dinitro-3-acetylaminoveratrole. Gibson, Simonsen, and Rau. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 69 

p.'p-Dinitrodiazoaminobenzene. Hantzsch and Hein. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 493 (1919). 

p-p'-Dinitrodiphenylamine. Hantzsch and Hein. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 493 (1919). 

s-Diphenylethane. Macbeth and Stewart. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 829 (1917). 

Di-cyclo-pentadiene. Stobbe and Diinnhaupt. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 1436 (1919). 

Dithioindigo. Lifschitz and Lourié. ‘ Ber.,’ 50, 897 (1917). 

Doebner's violet and derivatives. Kehrmann and Sandoz. ‘ Ber.,’ 51, 915 (1918). 


Elaidic acid. Macbeth and Stewart. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 829 (1917). 
Eosine. Miethe and Stenger. ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 19, 57 (1920). 
Erucic acid. Macbeth and Stewart. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 829 (1917). 
B-Ethoxycinnamic acid. Ley. ‘ Ber.,’ 51, 1808 (1918). 
a-Ethoxystyrol. Ley. ‘ Ber.,’ 51, 1808 (1918). 
8-Ethoxystyrol. Ley. ‘ Ber.,’ 51, 1808 (1918). 
Ethyl benzoylaretate. Ley. ‘ Ber.,’ 51, 1808 (1918). 
Ethyl dinitrophenylmalonate. Hantzsch and Hein. ‘Ber.,’ 52, 493 (1919). 
Ethyl nitrate. Schaefer. ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 17, 193 (1918). 
Ethyl ortho-formate. Hantzsch. ‘ Ber.,’ 50, 1422 (1917). 
” a9 » salts. Hantzsch. ‘ Ber.,’ 50, 1422 (1917). 
Ethyl phenylpropiolate. Macbeth and Stewart. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 829 (1917). 
Ethyl trinitrophenylmalonate. Hantzsch and Hein. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 493 (1919). 
Ethylbenzene. Macbeth and Stewart. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 829 (1917). 
Ethylene iodide. Macbeth and Stewart. ‘Trans.,’ 111, 829 (1917). 


Filter yellow. Miethe and Stenger. ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 19, 57 (1920). 
Fluorescein. Miethe and Stenger. ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 19, 57 (1920). 
Formic acid and salts. Hantzsch. ‘ Ber.,’ 50, 1422 (1917). 

Fuchsine. Hantzsch. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 509 (1919). 
Fuchsonedimethylimonium chloride. Hantzsch. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 509 (1919). 
Fumaric acid. Macbeth and Stewart. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 829 (1917). 


Hexamethylbenzene. Lifschitz.  ‘ Ber.,’ 49, 2050 (1916). 
Hexamethyltriaminotriphenylearbinol.. Hantzsch. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 509 (1919). 
Hexatriene. Macbeth and Stewart. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 829 (1917). é 
p-Hydroxybenzeneazo-1.3-dihydroxynaphthalene, Ghosh and Watson. ‘'Trans.,’ 
111, 815 (1917). € 
_ p-Hydroxybenzeneazo-1.5-dihydroxynaphthalene. Ghosh and Watson. ‘ Trans.,’ 
111, 815 (1917). 

246 REPORTS ON THE STATE OF sctencE.—1920. 

p-Hydroxybenzeneazo-a-naphthol. Ghosh and Watson. ‘Trans.,’ 111, 815 (1917). 

p-Hydroxybenzeneazo-8-naphthol. Ghosh and Watson. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 815 (1917). 

p-Hydroxybenzeneazo-#-naphthylamine. Ghosh and Watson. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 815 

4-Hydroxymalachite-green. Ghosh and Watson. “ Trans.,’ 111, 815 (1917). 


Imidovioluric acid. Lifschitz and Kritzmann. ‘ Ber.,’ 50, 1719 (1917). 
3 » salts. Lifschitz and Kritzmann. ‘ Ber.,’ 50, 1719 (1917). 
Indigo. Lifschitz and Lourié. ‘ Ber.,’ 50, 897 (1917). 

Ketothiodimethylpyrone. Hantzsch. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 1535 (1919). 


Malachite-green. Ghosh and Watson. ‘Trans.,’ 111, 815 (1917). 
Hantzsch. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 509 (1919). 

Kehrmann and Sandoz. ‘ Ber.,’ 51, 915 (1918). 

ie a derivatives. Kehrmann and Sandoz. ‘ Ber.,’ 51, 915 (1918). 
Maleic acid. Macbeth and Stewart. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 829 (1917). 

Martius yellow. Miethe and E. Stenger. ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 19, 57 (1920). 
Methoxymalachite green. Hantzsch. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 509 (1919). 
a-Methylcinnamic acid. Ley. ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 18, 178 (1918). 
8-Methylcinnamic acid. Ley. ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 18, 178 (1918). 
Methyl.o-formate. Hantzsch. ‘ Ber.,’ 50, 1422 (1917). 
Methylphenylthiazin bromide. Kehrmann. ‘ Ber.,’ 49, 2831 (1916). 
@-Methylstilbene. Ley. ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 18, 178 (1918). 
a-Methylstyrol. Ley. ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 18, 178 (1918). 

B-Methylstyrol. Ley. ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 18, 178 (1918). 

Methylthiazin perchlorate. Kehrmann. ‘ Ber.,’ 49, 2831 (1916). 
Monochloroacetic acid and salts. Hantzsch. ‘ Ber.,’ 50, 1422 (1917). 
Monosulphuryl indigo. Lifschitz and Lourié. ‘ Ber.,’ 50, 897 (1917). 

9 ” 

” ” 


Naphthophenazoxonium derivatives. Kehrmann and Sandoz. ‘ Ber.,’ 51, 923 (1918). 
p-Nitrobenzeneazoanthranol. Sircar. ‘Trans.,’ 109, 757 (1916). 
p-Nitrobenzene-l-azo-4-anthrol. Sircar. ‘Trans.,’ 109, 757 (1916). 
p-Nitrobenzene-l-azo-4-naphthol. Sircar. ‘ Trans.,’ 109, 757 (1916). 
p-Nitrobenzene-1l-azo0-4-naphthol-3-carboxylic acid and salts. Sircar. ‘Trans.’ 109, 
757 (1916). 
p-Nitrobenzeneazophenol, Sircar. ‘Trans.,’ 109, 757 (1916). 
p-Nitrobenzeneazosalicylic acid and salts. Sircar. ‘Trans.,’ 109, 757 (1916). 
p-Nitrobenzene-1-azo-1’.2'.3'.4'-tetrahydro-4-naphthol. Sircar. ‘Trans.’ 109, 757 — 
p-Nitrodiazoaminobenzene. Hantzsch and Hein. ‘Ber.,’ 52, 493 (1919). | 
p-Nitrodiphenylamine. Hantzsch and Hein. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 493 (1919). ; 
p-Nitronaphthalene-l-azophenol. Sircar. ‘Trans.,’ 109, 757 (1916). 4 
4-Nitronaphthalene-1-azosalicylic acid and salts. Sircar. ‘ Trans.,’ 109, 757 (1916). 
Nitrosodimethylaniline. Miethe and Stenger. ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 19, 57 (1920). 
p-Nitrotriphenylmethane. Hantzsch and Hein. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 493 (1919). 


Parafuchsin. Kehrmann and Sandoz. ‘ Ber.,’ 51, 915 (1918). 

Pararosaniline. Lifschitz. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 1919 (1919). 

cyclo-Pentadiene. Stobbe and Diinnhaupt. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 1436 (1919). 
Phenazoxonium derivatives. Kehrmann and Sandoz. ‘ Ber.,’ 50, 1667 (1917). 
Phenazthionium derivatives. Kehrmann and Sandoz. ‘ Ber.,’ 50, 1673 (1917). 
Phenol. Ley. ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 18, 178 (1918). 

Phenyl benzoate. Ley. ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 18, 178 (1918). 

a-Phenyl cinnamate. Ley. ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 18, 178 (1918). 


Phenyl salicylate. Ley. ‘Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 18, 178 (1918). 

a-Phenyl stilbene. Ley. ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 18, 178 (1918). 
Phenylacetylene. Macbeth and Stewart. * Trans.,’ 111, 829 (1917). 
Phenylethylene. Macbeth and Stewart. * Trans., 111, 829 (1917). 
Phenylpropiolic acid. Macbeth and Stewart. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 829 (1917). 
B-Phenylpropionic acid. Macbeth and Stewart. ‘Trans.,’ 111, 829 (1917). 
Phenylthiazin bromide. Kehrmann. ‘Ber.’ 49, 2831 (1916). 

Phorone. Lifschitz. ‘Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 16, 140 (1916). 

a-Picoline. Herrmann. ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 18, 253: (1919). 

B-Picoline. Herrmann. ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 18, 253 (1919). 

Picolinic acid. Ley and Ficken. ‘ Ber.,’ 50, 1123 (1917). 

Piperidine. Herrmann. ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 18, 253 (1919). 

Purpurin. Meek. ‘Trans.,’ 111, 969 (1917). 

Pyridine. Herrmann. ‘Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 18, 253 (1919). 

Pyridonium and Pyroxonium salts. Hantzsch. ‘Ber,,’ 52, 1535, 1544 (1919). 


Quinizarin. Meek. ‘Trans.,’ 111, 969 (1917). 
Quinone. Hantzsch and Hein.’ * Ber.,’ 52, 493 (1919). 

Resaurin. Ghosh and’ Watson. ‘Trans.,’ 111, 815 (1917). 


Salicylic acid. Ley. ‘Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 18, 178 (1918). 
Stearic acid. Macbeth and Stewart. ‘Tramns.,’ 111, 829 (1917): 
Stearolic acid. Macbeth and Stewart. ‘Trans.,’ 111, 829 (1917). 
Stilbene. Macbeth and Stewart. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 829 (1917). 
7 Ley. ‘Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 18, 178 (1918). 
Styrene. Macbeth and Stewart. ‘Trans.,’ 111, 829 (1917). 
Styrol. Ley. ‘Ber.,’ 51, 1808 (1918). ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 18, 178 (1918). 
Succinic acid. Macbeth and Stewart. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 829 (1917). 
p-Sulphobenzene-l-azo-4-anthrol. Sirear: ‘Trans.,’ 109, 757 (1916). 
p-Sulphobenzene-1-azo-4-naphthol. Sircar. * Trans.,’ 109, 757 (1916). 
p-Sulphobenzeneazophenol. Sircar. ‘Trans.,’ 109, 757 (1916). 
p-Sulphobenzene-1-azo- 1’.2'.3/.4'-tetrahydro-4-naphthol. Sircar. ‘ Trans.,’ 109, 757 

Tartrazine. Miethe and Stenger. ‘ Zeit. wiss. Phot.,’ 19, 57 (1920). 
Tetrabenzylarsonium iodide. Hantzsch. ‘Ber.,’ 52, 1544 (1919). 
Tetraethylphosphonium iodide. Hantzsch. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 1544 (1919). Meek. ‘Trans.,’ 111, 969 (1917). 
Tetramethyldiaminofuchsone. Hantzsch. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 509 (1919). 
Tetramethyldiaminoquinone. Hantzsch. ‘Ber.,’ 52, 509 (1919). 
Tetrapropylammonium iodide. Hantzsch. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 1544 (1919). 
Thiazin chloride. Kehrmann. ‘ Ber.,’ 49, 2831 (1916). 
Tolane. Macbeth and Stewart. ‘Trans.,, 111, 829 (1917). 
Trialkylsulphonium haloids. Hantzsch. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 1544 (1919). 
Trichloroacetic acid and salts. Hantzsch. ‘ Ber.,’ 50, 1422 (1917). 
1.2.4-Trihydroxyanthraquinone. Meek. ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 969 (1917). 
Trihydroxyaurin. Ghosh and Watson. ‘Trans.,’ 111, 815 (1917). 
2.3.4-Trihydroxymalachite-green. Ghosh and Watson, ‘ Trans.,’ 111, 815 (1917). 
Trinitrobenzene. Hantzsch and Hein. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 493 (1919)... 
-p-Trinitrotriphenyl carbinol. Hantzsch. ‘Ber.,’ 50, 1413 (1917). 
Trinitrotriphenylmethane. Hantzsch and Hein. ‘Ber.,’ 52, 493 (1919). 
Triphenylearbinol. Hantzsch. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 509 (1919)... 

+s Kehrmann and Sandoz. ‘ Ber.,’ 51, 915 (1918). 
Triphenylmethylphosphonium iodide. Hantzsch. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 1544 (1919). 
a-Truxillic acid. Stobbe. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 1021 (1919). 
8-Truxillic acid. Stobbe. ‘ Ber.,’ 52, 1021 (1919). 


Fuel Economy. Third Report of Committee (Professor W. A. Bone * 
(Chairman), Mr. H. James Yares * (Vice-Chairman), Mr. Ropert 
Monn * (Secretary), Mr. A. H. Barxsr, Professor P. P. Bepson, 
Dr. W. S. Bouton, Mr. E. Bury, Professor W. E. Dausy, Mr. 
E. V. Evans,* Dr. W. GauLoway, Sir RoBert HapDFIELD, Bart. ,* 
Dr. H. 8. Heue-SHaw,* Mr. D. H. Heures, Dr. G. Hickuina, 
Mr. D. V. HouttinewortH, Mr. A. Hurouinson,* Principal G. 
Knox, Professor Henry Louis,* Mr. H. M. Moraans, Mr. W. H. 
PatcHety,* Mr. A. T. Smita, Dr. J. E. Sreap, Mr. C. E. 
StroMEyER, Mr. G. BuakE WALKER, Sir JosEPpH Watton, M.P.,* 
Professor W. W. Warts,* Mr. W. B. WoopuHovss, and Mr. C. H. 
WorpDINGHAM*) appointed for the Investigation of Fuel Economy, 
the Utilisation of Coal, and Smoke Prevention. 


THe Committee has held altogether six meetings since its reappointment last 
year, and is investigating (inter alia) the following matters, namely :— 

(a) The present official methods of arriving at coal-mining statistics (e.g., 
outputs of coal, etc.) in thig and other coal-producing countries, 

(6) The effect of the war upon the British coal export trade. 

(c) The chemical constitution of coal. 

(zd) The low temperature carbonisation of coal. 

(e) The thermal efficiencies at present attainable (i) in the carbonisation and 
gasification of coal by various systems, (ii) in domestic fires and heating 
appliances, (iii) in metallurgical and other furnaces, (iv) in steam raising and 
power production, and (v) in regard to the generation of electric power in 
public stations. 

(f) Sources of supply of liquid fuels. 

Although the Committee has made satisfactory progress with its inquiries 
in certain directions during the past year, both time and opportunity have been 
wanting for completing them. ‘Che present Report, therefore, is of an interim 
nature, but the Committee hopes to report more fully on the above matters to 
the Edinburgh Meeting next year. 

Coal-maning Statistics. 

The attention of the Committee having been drawn by Professor Henry 
Louis to the fact that, owing to considerable variations in the modes of arriving 
at the official data concerning coal outputs, etc., periodically published by 
Government Departments in the various coal-producing countries, it is impossible 
to regard them as being properly comparable, the Committee requested him 
to prepare a Memorandum on the subject. This he subsequently did, and, 
having regard to the great importance of the matter, the Committee decided 
to publish the Memorandum im extenso as Appendix I. to this Report, in 
the hope that it may lead to the desired: reform being effected. In particular, 
the Committee endorses Professor Louis’ view concerning the importance of 
summoning an International Conference for determining the precise manner in 
which mineral statistics of all kinds shall be collected, tabulated, and finally 
issued to the public. 

* Denotes a member of the Executive Committee. 


Coal Outputs and Average Pithead Prices in 1919. 

According to information kindly furnished to the Committee by the Statistical 
Department of the Board of Trade, the total output of coal in the United 
Kingdom during the year 1919 has been provisionally estimated at 229,668,000 
tons, and the total output per person employed (below and above ground) in the 
mines at 197°5 tons. 

Owing to abnormal circumstances during the period of coal control, it is 
difficult to give strictly comparable figures for the average pithead prices of coal 
in the years immediately preceding and following (respectively) the war. 
According to official estimates supplied by the Statistical Department of the 
Board of Trade, the pithead prices per ton of coal raised in 1913, and in July 
1919, respectively, were approximately as follows :— 

Average On July 16, 

for 1913 1919 

8. d. 8. d. 

Labour . 4 : 6.4 19 53 
Timber and Stores . : - HoH GO 3 2h 
Other Costs . f : : : 10 SOY 1 24 
Royalties : E ? ’ - O 5} 0 62 
Owners’ Profits : : SORMAG 1 2 
Compensation . : . : ; : — 0 3} 
Administration, etc. z 3 ‘ 3 — 0 24 
Total . t ’ - 10 26 04 

In the Report recently made to the Prime Minister by Messrs. Alfred Tongue 
& Co., Chartered Accountants, of Manchester and Glasgow, and presented to 
Parliament by command of His Majesty (Cmd. 555), it was estimated that the 
average cost per ton of coal raised in British mines during the year ending 
March 31, 1920, was as follows :— 

8. d. 
Wages 4 : : : : : : Z of dD yh 
Timber and Store , 2 . - . F eet S10 
Other Costs : ; : 7 : - Spi A Lye) 
Royalties , - ; ; ‘ : : - O 63 
Administration . : : s A ‘ ; oy Ot ve 
Capital Adjustments under Finance Acts . nv. 
Control and Contingencies 0 2 
Owners’ Profits . 1 2 
Total . ‘ : : . : - 27 3f 

It would thus appear that the pithead cost of coal has been nearly trebled as 
the result of the war. 

Coal Hxport Statistics, 

The Statistical Department of the Board of Trade has also placed at the 
disposal of the Committee detailed information concerning the amounts of coal 
exported from the principal ports of the kingdom (a) to British possessions, and 

_ (6) to foreign countries, during each of the years 1913-1919 inclusive. In view 
of the importance of such statistics, the Committee has decided to publish them 
in tabular form as Appendix II. to this Report. The Committee is also collecting 
information as to average prices obtained at the principal ports for the coal 
exported during each of the years in question. In the light of such statistics 
the Committee hopes next year to be able to review the question of the effect of 
the war upon the coal export trade. 

“ Chemistry of Coal. 

. During the year considerable progress has been made with the researches on 

the chemistry of coal under the direction of Professor Bone at the Fuel 

Laboratories at the Imperial College of Science and Technology, further details 


of which will shortly be published. The Committee has also followed with 
close. attention the work recently published (a) by Drs. Marie Stopes, R. V. 
Wheeler, and Rudolph Lessing upon the four macroscopically distinguishable 
portions of banded bituminous coal and their respective behaviour on car- 
bonisation and oxidation, (0) by Mr. 8. R. Illingworth at the Treforest School 
of Mines, and (c) by Mr. F. 8. Sinnatt and collaborators of the Lancasnrre and 
Cheshire Coal Research Association. 

Future Standards of Gas Supplies. 

Since it reported its views on the above subject to the Bournemouth Meeting 
of the Association last year, the Committee has followed up the matter, and on 
February 2 last a deputation, consisting of the Chairman, Sir Robert Hadfield, 
Messrs, W. H. Patchell and H. James Yates, waited upon the then President 
of the Board of Trade (the Rt. Hon. Sir Auckland C. Geddes, K.C.B.) to lay 
before him the views of the Committee upon the subject, with special reference 
to impending legislation. 

In introducing the deputation, Professor Bone called the attention of the 
President to (a) the Report on Gas Standards which had been made by the Fuel 
Research Board, (6) the conclusions thereon that had been arrived at as the 
result of a conference between representatives of consumers, local authorities, and 
gas undertakings, and (c) the announcement by the President of the Board of 
Trade that a Bill would shortly be introduced in Parliament to give effect to 
the recommendations of the Fuel Research Board.! He explained that the Com- 
mittee had looked at the question primarily from the view of the national 
interests as a whole, and particularly from that of domestic and industrial gas 
consumers. It agreed with the Fuel Research Board that the future basis of 
charge to the consumer should be the actual number of thermal units supplied 
to him in the gas which passed through his meter, but desired that the charge 
should be based upon the ‘ascertained net calorific value’ of the gas supplied 
rather than its ‘ declared calorific value,’ as proposed by the Fuel Research 
Board. It also endorsed the Fuel Research Board’s original recommendation that 
the gas should be supplied at a pressure of ‘not less than two inches of water 
at the exit of the consumer’s meter,’ but expressed its disagreement with the 
Board’s subsequent view that the pressure condition might be reduced to one 
of ‘ not less than two inches of water in any main or service pipe of two inches 
in diameter’; because what mattered to the consumer was the adequacy of the 
pressure in his own pipes rather than in the gas mains outside his premises. 

It was also stated that the Committee attached great importance to the 
pressure being maintained as constant as possible, as well as to gas undertakings 
being required to pay greater attention than ever to the removal of cyanogen 
and sulphur impurities from the gas. Finally, it was explained that the Com- 
mittee, whilst agreeing generally with the proposals in regard to the new thermal 
basis for the sale of gas, and to the restriction of its inert constituents, con- 
sidered that its chemical composition would need some statutory regulation, and 
that in particular no public gas supply should be allowed to contain less than 
20 per cent. of methane or more than 20 per cent. of carbon monoxide. 

After Sir Robert Hadfield had endorsed the views of the Committee from the 
point of view of industrial consumers of gas, Mr. H. James Yates outlined 
his views as a maker of gas fires who had for many years given much attention 
to the scientific investigation of domestic heating and ventilation. He laid 

stress upon the importance of maintaining a constant pressure of not less than ~ 

two inches water-gauge on the consumer’s side of the service pipes, and that 
the gross calorific value of the gas supplied should not be allowed to fall below 

450 B.Th.U. per cubic foot, stating that if gas undertakings supplied gas of | 

lower calorific value a large part of the existing gas appliances would become 

Sir Auckland Geddes, in his reply, promised to give full consideration to 
the facts and opinions which they had laid before him. Also, he said that he 

1The Bill was subsequently introduced by Sir Robert Horne in the House of 
Commons on May 19, 1920. 


had been impressed with the physiological side of the question and with the 
danger of cyanogen and of too high a proportion of carbonic oxide in gas. 

The ‘Gas Regulation Bill,’ as subsequently presented to the House of 
Commons on May 19 last by Sir Robert Horne (the new President of the Board 
of Trade), contained far-reaching new proposals concerning the public sale and 
distribution of gas, among which the following are of especial importance ‘to 
consumers :— 

(a2) That the Board of Trade may, on the application of any gas undertakers, 
by order, provide for the repeal of any enactments or other provisions requiring 
the undertakers to supply gas of any particular illuminating or calorific value, 
and for substituting power to charge for thermal units supplied in the form of 


F (6) That where such substitution has been decided upon, the new basis for 
the sale of gas shall be 100,000 British Thermal Units (to be referred to in the 
Bill as a ‘therm’). The consumer will then be charged according to the number 
of ‘therms’ supplied to him in the gas, and the standard price per therm fixed by 
the order shall be a price corresponding as nearly as may be to the price fixed 
by former provisions for each 1,000 cubic feet, but with such additions (if any) 
as appear to the Board to be reasonably required in order to meet unavoidable 
increases since June 30, 1914, in the costs and charges of and incidental 
to the production and supply of gas by the undertakers ; and the order may make 
such modifications of any provisions whereby the rate of dividend payable by 
the gas undertakers is dependent on the price of gas supplied as appear to the 
Board to be necessary. 

(ec) That an order under the Act shall prescribe the time when, and the 
manner in which, the undertakers are to give notice of the calorific value of the 
gas they intend to supply (#.e., ‘declared calorific value’), and shall require the 
undertakers, before making any alteration in the declared calorific value, to 
take at their own expense such steps as may be necessary to alter, adjust, or 
replace the burners in consumers’ appliances in such a manner as to secure that 
the gas can be burned with safety and efficiency. 

(d) That the gas supplied under the Act (i) shall not contain any trace of 
sulphuretted hydrogen, (ii) shall not be at a pressure of less than two inches 
water-gauge in any main or service pipe of two inches diameter or upwards, and 
(iii) shall not contain more than a certain permissible proportion of incombustible 
constituents (namely, 20 per cent. during a period of two years after the passing 
of the Act, 18 per cent. during the succeeding two years, and 15 per cent. 

(e) That as soon as may be after the passing of the Act the Board shall cause 
an inquiry to be held into the question whether it is necessary or desirable to 
prescribe any limitations of the proportion of carbon monoxide which may be 
supplied in gas used for domestic purposes, and may, if on such inquiry it 
appears desirable, make a special order under the Act prescribing the permissible 

(f) That Gas Referees and Examiners shall be appointed for the purpose of 
(i) prescribing the apparatus and method for testing the gas, and (ii) carrying 
out of such prescribed tests. 

During the passage of the Bill through its Committee stage in the House of 
Commons, the important sub-section limiting the amount of incombustible con- 
stituents permissible in gas (vide (d) (iii) above) was deleted, on the under- 
standing that, subsequent to the passing of the Act, the matter shall be made 
the subject of an official inquiry by the Board of Trade. The effect of this 
amendment is, therefore, to put the question of ‘inerts ’ into the same category 
as that of carbon monoxide, and the whole matter now stands as follows :— 

The Board of Trade shall, as soon as may be after the passing of this Act, 
cause inquiries to be held into the question whether it is necessary 
or desirable to prescribe any limitations of the proportion of carbon 
monoxide which may be supplied in gas used for domestic purposes, 
and into the question whether it is necessary or desirable to prescribe 
any limitations of the proportion of incombustible constituents which 
may be supplied in gas so. used, and may, if on any such inquiry it 
appears desirable, make one or more special orders under this Act 
prescribing the permissible proportion in either case, and any such 


special order may have effect either generally or as regards particular 
classes of undertakings, and the provisions of the special order shall 
have effect as if they were enacted in this section. 

When such official inquiries are instituted by the Board of Trade this Com- 
mittee will hope to be given an opportunity of presenting again its views (as 
already reported) upon the matters concerned. 

Alcohol from Coke-oven Gas. 

During the past year a notable development has been made in connection 
with the technology of by-product recovery from coal as the result of Mr. E. 
Bury’s successful experimental trials, in conjunction with Mr. O. Ollander, at 
the Skinningrove Iron Works, upon the absorption of ethylene from debenzolised 
coke-oven gas and its conversion into ethyl alcohol. These trials have demon- 
strated the possibility of obtaining on a large scale 16 gallons of absolute alcohol 
per ton of the particular Durham coal carbonised. Assuming’ a similar yield 
from the 15,000,000 tons (or thereabouts) of coal now annually carbonised in 
British by-product coke ovens, it is claimed to be possible to obtain from coke 
works alone a 95 per cent. industrial alcohol in quantities equivalent to about 
24 million gallons per annum of the absolute spirit. 

Although a full account of the investigation has already been given by Messrs, 
Bury and Ollander in a paper before the Cleveland Institution of Engineers in 
December last (vide also Iron and Coal Trades Review, December 1919), the 
Committee, whilst not expressing any opinion as to the commercial prospects 
of the process, considers that the technical importance of it is such as to 
warrant attention being drawn in this Report to some of its salient features 
(see Appendix IIT.). 

The Committee recommends that it be reappointed to continue its investi- 
gations, with a grant of 351. 

AppENDIx [. 

Memorandum upon Coal-mining Statistics. 

The most important statistics concerning coal are the figures giving the 
annual production of coal, the number of workers employed in the mines, the 
number of fatal and of non-fatal accidents respectively. These statistics are 
collected and published by the Government Departments in most coal-producing 
countries, and upon these are based a number of comparative statements by 
which the progress of the industry in different countries is usually estimated, 
such as the production per worker employed, the accident death-rate per thousand 
workers, etc. For most economic and social studies, the number of workers 
employed is in several respects the most important of these figures, and un- 
fortunately it would appear to be the one upon which the least dependence can 
be placed. Elaborate reports have been drawn up, and legislation has even been 
enacted, based upon the comparative results of these data; and it has been quite 
freely assumed that the figures given for different countries or different districts 
of a country are properly comparable, whilst as a matter of fact the methods of 
arriving at these figures vary so widely that they come to bear quite different 
meanings, and the assumption that similar headings always connote similar 
interpretations is utterly without foundation. 

Production.—In this country the returns of the output of coal until recently 
included the stones and dirt sent up to ‘bank with the coal and picked out 
on the belts or screens; since that time the weight of coal alone is supposed 
kos Re returned. The instructions at present issued by the Home Office read as 
follows :— 

The weight given should be the net weight after screening or sorting. .. . 
Where the net weight of the coal is not determined during the year 
in respect of which the return is being made, it will be sufficient if a 
deduction is made according to the average percentage of dirt ex- 
tracted from the coal at the mine. In cases where the coal is sold as 
it leaves the pit without screening or sorting it will be proper to give 
the gross weight sent out of the pit as the amount of output. 


It will be seen that the instructions are somewhat vague, and that. they also 
leave considerable openings for guess-work and estimates instead of accurate 
facts; furthermore, the instructions would in, some cases at any rate compel 
the inclusion of washery dirt under the heading of output, since this dirt does 
not always come under the heading of ‘ dirt extracted from the coal at the mine.’ 
It is by no means uncommon for one company to control two collieries not far 
distant from each other and to erect at one of them a washery to which the 
small coal from the first colliery is to be sent for washings; in such a case if the 
instructions are literally followed, washery dirt will be included in the returns 
of the coal output from the first colliery and excluded from the second. 
Accordingly, it is natural that the practice in making up these returns varies 
greatly from district to district, and even from colliery to colliery. In some 
cases both the dirt picked out on the belts and that washed out in the washery 
are deducted from the pithead weight, 7.e., from the tonnage on which the 
men are paid; in other cases no deduction at all is made for washery dirt, and 
in yet other cases an arbitrary percentage is deducted from the coal sent to the 
washery. There is also some difference as regards the practice concerning ‘free 
coal’ given to the’ miners and coal for colliery consumption. In most cases all 
this coal is returned as part of the production; in some cases the coal consumed 
by the pits is not included, and apparently in a few cases both the ‘free coal’ 
and coal for colliery consumption are deducted from the output. In some places 
it is customary to give as a return of output the landlord’s tonnage, that is the 
amount on which royalty is paid, which is usually the output less certain deduc- 
tions allowed by the terms of the lease. In view of this wide variation, it would 
be a distinct advantage if the Home Office were to issue specific instructions on 
all the above points, so as to secure uniformity of method in making returns 
throughout the United Kingdom. The methods used in Canada might well be 
adopted here. 

In Canada a more definite system is adopted; the introduction. to the 
Canadian Annual Statistics states in definite language what is intended, as 
follows :— 

The term ‘production’ in the text and tables of this report is used to 
represent the tonnage of coal actually sold. or used, by the producer, as 
distinguished from the term ‘output,’ which is applied to the total coal 
extracted from the mine, and which includes. in some cases, coal lost 
or unsaleable or coal carried into stock on hand at the end of the year. 

Apparently throughout Canada the various Provinces issue sheets which 
have to be filled up every month, and which the different Provincial Govern- 
ments have agreed to issue in identical form, so that returns for the Dominion 
can be made by the Canadian Department of Mines or by the Dominion Bureau 
of Statistics. The whole of the collection of statistics, and, in fact, the 
administration of mining law, is controlled by the respective Provincial Govern- 
ments. with the exception of mining lands in certain of the Western Provinces 
and North-West Territories, which are controlled directly by the Dominion 
Government. These monthly returns show the amount of free coal or of coal 
sold to miners at a reduced price, the quantity used for colliery consumption. 
specifying any used on the colliery company’s own railways, the quantity of 
coal used for making coke and briquettes, the quantity stocked, and the 
quantity on hand. The only fault that can be found with these returne is that 
they do not specifically ask for a return of the dirt picked out and washed ont 
respectively. In Canada the term ‘production’ is restricted. to marketable or 
economically useful coal. whilst the term ‘output’ is the equivalent of what 
we sometimes speak of in this country as ‘drawings,’ i.e., everything drawn 
out from the colliery, inclusive of any dirt that may be extracted subsequently. 

In the United States. the production means the total production of clean coal. 
that is to say, coal with the exclusion of pickings and washerv dirt, and includ- 
ing colliery consumption. Tho work is done by the Mineral Resources: Division 
of the United States Geological Survey, but there is a cood deal of overlapping 
and difficulty owing to some of the statistics being collected by State Bureaux 
and others by Federal Bureaux: in this resnect attention may be directed to. the 
Conference on this subject held at Washington in 1916. the results of which 
are printed in a report of the Committee on the Standardisation of Mining 


Statistics in 1918. At present cards in the shape of card slips are issued, to be 
filled up annually, and these ask for the total production, which is defined to 
‘include all marketable coal, excluding only refuse from washeries and slack 
coal wasted.’ It distinguishes between the coal loaded at the mine for ship- 
ment, coal used locally, colliery consumption, and coal used for making coke 
at the mine. It will be seen that these instructions are fairly clear and definite. 

In France the production includes the whole of the drawings, deducting only 
the worthless waste, 7.e., pickings and washery refuse, 

In Belgium the same practice is followed, the production including colliery 
consumption and coal given or sold to employees, but definitely excluding 
pickings and washery waste. 

It will be seen that all these producing countries are aiming at one definite 
meaning for the word ‘production,’ and in this respect there is at any rate 
uniformity of intention. Unfortunately the execution of the object leaves much 
to be desired. The Canadian practice of monthly returns has much in its favour ; 
it no doubt throws a certain amount of additional work both upon individual 
collieries and upon the department collecting statistics, but, on the other hand, 
it enables half-yearly and quarterly statements to be issued very shortly after 
the conclusion of the respective periods, and in the same way annual statements 
can be produced much more rapidly than would be the case if the whole of the 
returns began to come in after the end of the year. It is quite desirable that 
the returns should show definitely the total weight of drawings, the weight of 
dirt picked and washed out, the weight given or sold to employees, the colliery 
consumption, and the coal used for making coke. Again, there would not 
be a great deal of labour involved in keeping these figures, and the information 
would be of the greatest value. 

Number of Employees.—In this country the only information asked for is a 
return ‘ of persons ordinarily employed ’; the returns specify that it must include 
all the persons employed on the mine premises, such as officials, storekeepers, 
clerks, etc., those employed on the pit sidings, on private branch railways and 
tramways, and in washeries adjacent to and belonging to the mine. Furthermore, 
the number employed underground must be kept separate from those employed 
above-ground, and there is also a separation according to age and sex. There is, 
however, no information as to what is meant by ‘the number of persons 
ordinarily employed.’ although this is evidently the crux of the whole matter. 
The consequence is that extremely variable methods are made use of. Some pits 
merely give the number of men entered on the pay sheet for the particular 
day in the year on which the return is made out; others take two or three days 
which they consider normal and average these. Some return the number of 
employees on the books of the company, others the number on the time roll; 
with the prevailing amount of absenteeism, the former number will exceed the 
latter by about 25 per cent., but there is no instruction as to which of the two 
is the figure intended to be given. Some of the more painstaking collieries 
average the number of men employed daily, but this is apparently exceptional. 
It is evident that a more definite and svstematic method would have to be 
adopted before it is possible to attach anything like a precise meaning to returns 
of numbers employed in this country. 

In Canada, apparently, monthly returns are made, and these are averaged 
for the year. The Canadian intention is to ‘show the actual amount of labour 
in terms of days worked, rather than the actual number of individual men that 
may have been engaged,’ and this is obviously the correct way of dealing with 
the subject. The returns ask for a classification under eight different heads 
and separate them into underground and above-ground workers; it may be 
noted that in Canada the number of men employed at the coke ovens and 
briquetting plants in connection with collieries is included in the mine employees. 
whilst according to the wording of the English return these should be excluded 
in this country, although there is no warranty for saying that the instructions 
for making the latter returns are in all cases strictly complied with. Further- 
more, in Canada there is an interesting table showing the time lost through 
absenteeism, meaning thereby the fault of the men and through a series of other 
reasons which may be classified as the fault of the mine or of the industry. 
It would be a distinct advantage if such returns were available for this 
country. j 


In the United States of America the information asked for is the average 
number of men employed during the year, excluding coke workers and office 
force. In the exclusion of the latter item this return differs from the British 
return; in the exclusion of the former item it differs from the Canadian return. 
The number of hours per working day is also asked for, as well as the average 
number of days lost by strikes and the number of men thereby affected. The 
intention in America is to get the average number of men employed during the 
year, but apparently the methods of obtaining these are about as vague as they 
are in this country. In the report already referred to it is stated that ‘ without 
instruction in regard to the way these averages (average number of employees) 
should be computed there will be a lack of uniformity of method, and in many 
cases the figures submitted will not be averages, and will not represent even 
approximately the real average number of persons employed.’ No one with any 
experience of the subject will doubt the accuracy of this statement, and it is 
certainly applicable to countries other than the United States. In the report 
in question the definition is put forward that ‘the average number of men 
should be the actual number of man-hours for the year.” This obviously is a 
clear and intelligible definition, and it would probably be a great advantage if it 
were generally adopted. 

In Belgium this principle is carried into effect; the number of employees 
returned represents the quotient of the number of days’ work done in the year 
divided by the number of working days. This figure is thus really the mean 
number of workmen engaged during the working days. 

In France, on the other hand, the number of employees is intended to be 
the number of names regularly on the colliery pay roll; a column is reserved 
for the number of days worked in the year. It is obvious that we are dealing 
here, under the same heading, with two entirely different conceptions ; some 
countries return the number of men who normally get their living by the 
industry, without any regard to the amount of absenteeism or the length of time 
that these men may be at work, whilst others return the number of men who 
have put in a full year’s work, meaning thereby have worked on all the days 
on which the mine was in operation. Obviously, these two figures differ widely 
from each other, and the fact that both are returned indifferently under the 
same heading vitiates many of the conclusions that have been drawn upon the 
basis of these returns. 

Fatal Accidents.—It is a curious fact that whereas every coal-mining country 
publishes a return of fatal accidents, there appears to be in none of them any 
legal definition of what constitutes a fatal accident. In the absence of legal 
definition in this country the Home Office has for many years made a practice 
of classifying all mine accidents which result in death within a year and a 
day as fatal accidents, apparently for no better reason than that in so doing 
they have followed the old Coroner’s Law. 

In Canada the Mineral Resources Statistics Branch does not collect accident 
statistics, and these appear to be left to the relative departments of different 
Provinces. They are not asked for in the statistical returns, but are obtained 
from the reports to the Inspector of Mines. In the Province of Alberta a fatal 
accident is construed as an accident which causes death within a twelvemonth. 
In the other Canadian Provinces there appears to be no definition at all, and it 
would seem that if a man dies from the effect of a mining accident, however 
long the death may be after the accident, it would apparently be reported as a 
fatal accident for the year in which the death takes place. 

In the United States mine-accident statistics are gathered by the various 
States and are by no means as reliable as statistics gathered by the Bureau of 
Mines. Mr. G. S. Rice. the chief mining’ engineer of the Bureau of Mines at 
Washington. gives me the following information: ‘As to what constitutes a 
definition of a fatal accident, this varies in the different States. In some States 
it means immediate death, in others within a day or two, in still others, if the 
man dies from the direct cause of the accident before the report is turned in, 
which is in February for the preceding calendar year, which may mean from two 
to thirteen months after the accident.’ Tt will be seen that these figures are 
obviously vague and unreliable. It is a curious fact that in the report of the Com- 
mittee on the Standardisation of Mining Statistics already referred to, the terms 
fatal and non-fatal accidents are freely used, but there is no attempt at definition. 


In France the principle followed is that the records of fatal accidents are 
restricted to those who are mortally injured in a mine accident, that is to say, 
either those killed on the spot or who die as the result of their injuries within a 
few hours after the accident, or at the outside within a few months without 
ever having been able to resume work. With regard to those whose death, 
occurring after a considerably longer interval, is the consequence of injuries 
received, they do not appear on the record, the Statistical Department not being, 
as a rule, informed of their death, and being, moreover, unable to determine 
its real cause. 

In Belgium, on the other hand, a fatal accident is restricted to an accident 
that causes death within thirty days. 

Here, again, it may be pointed out that this extremely important matter 
is in a chaotic condition, and that it is most urgent that an agreement be arrived 
at as to what precisely is meant by a fatal accident. 

Non-Fatal Accidents.—Here, again, there is a wide variation to be noted in 
practice. In this country the return is asked for of non-fatal accidents within 
any given year, non-fatal accidents being defined as accidents disabling the 
victim for more than seven days. 

In Canada the practice varies in the different Provinces. Apparently in 
Nova Scotia a non-fatal accident is classified as an accident by which a man 
must be disabled for at least seven days, but from which he recovers. In the 
Province of Saskatchewan accidents entailing a disability of less than six days 
are not recorded. In Alberta a non-fatal accident must be reported if a man 
is off for more than fourteen days; apparently in some cases accidents involving 
a disability of less than fourteen days are tabulated as slight accidents. 

In the United States of America the question of what constitutes a non-fatal 
accident is even more unsettled than the definition of a fata) accident. In some 
of the States statistics are collected based on the State Compensation Acts, 
under which compensation is paid for an injury causing a loss of at least two 
weeks; in metal mines apparently an accident causing a loss of at least one 
shift is tabulated as a slight injury, and one involving a loss of two weeks as a 
serious injury. 

In France injuries causing disability to work for more than twenty days are 
counted as non-fatal accidents. 

In Belgium all non-fatal accidents are accidents that cause permanent 
disability, whether this be total or partial, accidents involving only temporary 
disability not being included in the returns. 

The above can only be looked upon as an attempt to supply a portion of the 
information which is evidently nee